


Unintentional Lies

by Macx



Series: Denuo [79]
Category: House M.D., InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Magic, Paranormal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-13
Updated: 2011-05-13
Packaged: 2017-10-19 08:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Chase gone to New York for rehab, House gets a new temporary junior. Dr. Kagome Higurashi. He also gets a new case, a little girl who talks to invisible animals and seems to live in a world completely of her own. Her parents say she's autistic. House knows there's something he just hasn't discovered yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unintentional Lies

wo weeks had passed since Dr. Robert Chase had gone to New York. Two weeks since he had been allowed to leave the hospital and had been transferred to a rehab center. His injuries were healing, but it would be a long time until he would be fully restored. Several broken ribs, a broken clavicle, bruises, contusions, more.

House had been silent the day his junior had left, thoughtful even, and Wilson had spent the next day keeping a close eye on his best friend. But House had reverted back to his old self pretty quickly, terrorizing his remaining two juniors with abandon, giving Cuddy a run for her money, having her reply with similar methods, and everything was well.

"Stop scanning," House grumbled a week after Chase had left, glaring at his lover.

Wilson gave him an innocent look. He had come over for lunch break, which both men had spent in House's office, undisturbed by either Cameron or Foreman. Wilson had brought some sandwiches and sodas. House had thrown in the usual: nothing aside from his presence, which Wilson enjoyed a lot.

"I'm not," he now only said.

"You are, you empathic voyeur. I can feel it."

"Can not."

"Gotcha!"

Wilson rolled his eyes. "I'm not confessing to anything."

"You just did. I can give you lustful thoughts if you want to."

House screwed up his face in an expression of what had to go as 'dirty old man' and Wilson burst out laughing.

"No sex for you, Jimmy," was House's only reply.

Wilson chuckled, shaking his head. "As if you could live without it."

"I did just fine before you came along and ruined my reputation."

"There's nothing to ruin, Greg. Face it. And you didn't do fine. You did abominably."

"I got laid!" House protested with a whine.

"So not. Maybe you got laid by your hand."

That got him a snort. "I'll introduce you to the pretty young lady who serviced me regularly before you barged in."

"You want me to talk to a hallucination? Wonderful."

"I think you'd have a grand time."

"And here I was wondering where two of my department heads might be," a new voice interrupted.

House looked up and smirked. "And here she is."

Wilson just smiled, his back turned to Cuddy since he was slouching in House's visitor chair, long legs stretched out in front of him.

"What can I do for the Dean of this wonderful hospital on such a sunny day?" House sang.

Cuddy looked slightly annoyed. "Answer your phone?"

He glanced at the device in question. "Didn't ring."

Cuddy's expression was incredulous. Wilson knew she was probably shooting him a look, but he was doing his best to remain out of the argument, right down to using the 'invisibility', his ability to disappear off someone's radar. He was still there, but people would ignore him.

"Kagome Higurashi."

"Come again?" House asked, frowning.

"Dr. Higurashi applied for the six months fellowship in your team." Cuddy had her hands on her hips now. "Didn't you read the email?"

"Nope."

She threw her hands in the air. "House!"

"Present."

Cuddy glared and held out the file to him. "It doesn't matter. I approved. She's replacing Dr. Chase…"

"No."

By now Wilson had become truly invisible. Cuddy didn't so much as glance at him.

She raised her eyebrows. "What?"

"She's not replacing Chase," House reiterated.

"He's in rehab, House. You need someone else. You can't run your department with only two people!"

Those blue eyes bore into hers. "Is this a dare?"

"Grow up. Dr. Higurashi is specializing in medical genetics."

"Just what I needed," House groused.

Cuddy grimaced and threw a file on his desk. "Her background fits your requirement profile for candidates."

House glanced at the topmost paper. Wilson stole a look as well. It was written in English, not Japanese, and from the Research Hospital affiliated with the Tokyo University.

"Dr. Higurashi excels in her chosen profession. She's young, but she has talent."

"And her Dad paved her way to the Land of the Free with the American Dollar?" House asked acidly.

Cuddy's expression was that of a woman who had just taken a bite out of something very sour.

"Not interested," House simply said.

"Too bad. You've got her. Until Chase returns, which will be in six months, Dr. Higurashi is part of your team."

"Oh joy."

"And House?" Cuddy smiled sweetly. "Don't think you can push her out with your charming manners. I talked to Dr. Higurashi, as well as the rest of your team already. She's yours. Deal with it."

With that she left his office, still totally ignoring Wilson, who knew what was about to come.

He listened to the ranting of his best friend and lover with a tolerant expression in his eyes and mild smile on his lips. When House finally tapered off, apparently temporarily running out of insults for Cuddy, her brain, her style of running a hospital, and the world in general, the oncologist leaned forward.

"You need someone else, House. You can't run your department with only two people."

"Oh hell, she brainwashed you too!" House exclaimed, blue eyes still sparking anger.

"No, she didn't. I'm just reasonable."

"So that's what they call the onset of dementia," was the snarky reply.

"Greg."

"Jimmy?" The scruffy face was a mask of irate tension.

"Chase is in rehab. He'll be back in a few months and then it's all back to normal," Wilson soothed, unconsciously starting to reach out with his powers.

House snarled, not yet ready to give in. Wilson knew that the strain of what had happened to Chase, coupled with the revelation that the Australian was actually an ally, had hit home. And hard.

"Look at it from the bright side: you're getting fresh blood," Wilson said lightly.

"Huh. She'll run and hide within a week."

"I take that bet and raise you," the younger man shot back immediately.

There was a gleam in House's eyes. "Never bet with the master, Jimmy."

Wilson chuckled, getting up. "But it's so much fun to see you fork over the money."

And with that he left, pleased with the calmer waves he registered from House. Whoever Dr. Higurashi was, she would have to put up a fight to win against House, like all the other juniors he had had before. House was a good teacher, Wilson knew. People could learn a lot from him and those who were currently working with him could attest to that. It was just a matter of fighting back, of resisting the urge to give up.

Wilson smiled.

It would be interesting to see what Dr. Higurashi was made of.

* * *

The arrival of their latest temp junior was on a Monday. Dr. Kagome Higurashi walked into Diagnostics, accompanied by Cuddy, the dean of medicine looking a bit tense as she faced House and the team.

"Dr. Higurashi, may I introduce Dr. Foreman, Dr. Cameron and finally, Dr. House."

"I resent the finally," House only said.

He was standing next to the whiteboard, the pristine whiteboard, drinking coffee. Foreman looked a little exasperated and Cameron simply ignored the remark and came over to shake the Japanese woman's hand.

"Hello. I'm Allison Cameron. Nice to have you here with us."

Higurashi smiled pleasantly. She was slightly smaller than Cameron, with very long, black hair, brown eyes, and the slender built associated with many Asians. She was wearing her white coat and carrying a business case.

"I'm honored to be here," she replied. Those brown eyes met House and she inclined her head. "Dr. House."

"Don't bow, it would be too embarrassing," he snarked.

Cuddy's face underwent a transformation that was somewhere between horror and embarrassment. "House…"

But Higurashi just smiled more. "I've been raised to respect the elders, Dr. House, but I'm quite aware of both your reputation and the customs of this country. I'm not a naïve child."

House's eyes gleamed, but he seemed suddenly intrigued. "Respect your elders, huh?"

"Shouldn't it be custom in every culture to pay respect to those who can teach you?"

"Age doesn't necessarily mean wisdom."

"No, it doesn't. Neither does youth equal ignorance."

Cuddy's eyes flickered between the two and even Foreman frowned, slightly puzzled by what was going on.

"Your reputation has reached my country, Dr. House. Whether it is wisdom or not, I'll find out myself," Kagome added with a fine smile.

House grinned nastily. "Yes, let's find out." He nodded at Cameron. "You were saying before we were so rudely interrupted?"

Cameron blinked, slightly blindsided. "Ah, there is a referral… Forty-three year old male, complaining of stomach pain for the past year. He's been referred from one doctor to the other, and his last told him to come to us. They already removed his gall bladder, he no longer has his appendix, his stomach is fine, no reflux, no kidney or liver problems, no drinker, no smoker, athletic."

"Sex fiend?"

Cameron stopped her explanation and stared at him. "What?"

"Sex fiend. Too much sex, probably kink and strange practices. Gets to you."

House stretched.

"He's a married man."

"So?"

Cameron huffed. "Physically he appears fine."

"Appearances can be deceiving. Give me something interesting, Cameron. So far, I'm bored."

"He went into a seizure five minutes after admittance, but his blood work is fine," she added.

House's brows rose. "Did he now?"

"Might be something neurological," Foreman threw in. "The stomach is a cluster of nerve cells, just like the brain."

"You don't get stomach seizures." House got to his feet, reaching for his cane. "All right, give him the whole program, see what makes him tick, and take the new kid along. She might just learn something."

They filed out, Dr. Higurashi trailing them. Cuddy remained, her face a dark cloud.

"What?" House asked cheerfully.

She simply shook her head and left as well. He smiled widely and got himself another coffee.

* * *

"You gave her a perfect introduction into Diagnostics," Wilson remarked.

"Better sooner than later."

The oncologist didn't reply, his attention on the lasagna he was about to take out of the oven. Wilson had felt like cooking tonight and he knew House never protested a home-cooked meal. Even if they had to fight over who was doing the dishes later on. Wilson found that cooking relaxed him in a way. He could take his frustration out on innocent vegetables and meat, without making mince-meat out of it.

"You don't have to scare them away the very first day."

"Now there's a new thought," House mused, finger at his chin, looking mock-thoughtful. "Give her a sense of safety and then kick her ass."

"Something like that."

Wilson took the lasagna out of the oven and nodded, pleased with the result. It smelled delicious. House limped over and looked hungrily at the food.

"What's the occasion?" he asked.

"I had a bad day."

"Always a good reason. Who did you kill?"

"No one. Overton just got on my nerves."

"He's a whiner."

Wilson could only agree, but it didn't change the fact that the other oncologist was a pain in the ass and he really, really hoped he would make true of his threat to leave Princeton-Plainsboro. Hank Overton was nothing but a career doctor who had come into Wilson's department with the plain agenda to take over the head of department's chair, which meant Wilson's. And James Wilson didn't give in just like that. He had countered each strike, had never backed down, and when Overton couldn't get at him professionally, he had tried it through the rumor mill. He had attempted to use Wilson's known gay preferences against the younger doctor, tried to find co-conspirators, but whoever knew Dr. James Wilson wouldn't cross him.

And it wasn't like anyone really cared about his relationship with House. It was a relationship that wasn't flaunted inside the holy walls of the teaching hospital, and it wasn't a relationship openly discussed either.

Right now Overton was alone in the middle of a very open field, and he was losing ground. Wilson was at the end of his patience and Cuddy had gotten wind of the whole campaign. She had called Overton into her office already, asking him quite plainly what his problem was, and he hadn't been thrilled about her answer to his complaints.

House stepped even closer and his hand briefly rested against Wilson's back, then stroked over it, downward, a soothing presence. James didn't think anyone could see this tenderness in House, that he could be so gentle, and it was truly amazing to be the recipient of these touches.

"Ignore him," House murmured.

"I can't. I'm the department head. He wants my job."

"Not getting it." A kiss was placed against his neck and Wilson felt a tiny shiver.

His empathic senses opened and attached themselves more firmly against the strong presence that was Greg House.

"He's not," Wilson agreed. "It's just… a pain."

House ran his hand once more over his back, then stepped away, leaving Wilson slightly off balance in an empathic way.

"Food," the older man announced.

Wilson smiled. "Get the plates."

House just limped off and did just that, much to Wilson's quiet amazement, but he didn't give it much thought.

They had dinner, spent the evening watching TV, and Wilson actually fell asleep on the couch.

* * *

The next few days, Wilson spent most of his time with a new patient, probably consulting, talking to the stricken relatives, doing his Wilson Thing, House thought to himself. His lover was quite good at empathizing with people, getting across the caring doctor routine, and they fell for it each and every time. The big brown eyes, the handsome and perceived as innocent face, the warm, caring voice, his very mimic and gestures, they all made it possible for total strangers to drop their defenses around Wilson.

House smirked a little. Not like he was any different. James Wilson had wormed his way under House's radar, taken up residence, and had become his closest, best and only friend. And lover.

Thinking of the latter, House let his mind flash back to last night when the blowjob had left him a limp weight in the couch chair, breathing hard, feeling his heart hammer in his chest, and looking at the almost black eyes of the devil who had just sucked the very soul out of him.

Memo to myself: tease Jimmy long enough, you get him horny as hell, experimental, and it'll be really, really good for you.

Yeah, blowjobs were good. Only trumped by pushing inside his lover and listening to his gasps, his moans, and the rough exclamation of House's name as he spilled all over his stomach.

As if he had listened in to his dirty thoughts, Wilson walked into House's office, brows raised.

"Why did I know I'd find you here and not in the clinic?"

"Because Foreman's doing my clinic hours."

"Do I want to know why?"

"No." House grinned. "So, what's the latest sob story?"

Wilson flopped down in the chair. "Nothing that would get you out of this chair."

"But it's keeping you up all night."

"It's not. You're the restless ghost here. You spent last night thinking in front of the TV, watching the Sunday Late Night Movie."

"It was the late night porn movie," House corrected. "Was too horny to sleep after that fantastic blowjob and your fingers up my ass."

Wilson gave him a mildly exasperated eye-roll, but there was a barely perceptible blush creeping up his cheeks.

"It was good, Jimmy," House purred. "Really good. We should repeat it as soon as possible."

Wilson smiled a little. "I think I can squeeze you in my very full calendar somewhere."

"How very generous of you. So, what's bothering you about your terminal patient this time?"

"Nothing about the patient. He has a daughter. She's autistic."

"Tough luck. Nothing you can do there."

Wilson nodded. "No, nothing I can do."

He didn't get into detail about anything. House wouldn't care about it anyway. The oncologist pushed himself to his feet.

"Board meeting," he only said at House's quizzical expression.

"Have fun."

Wilson only grimaced, then headed out the door.

* * *

 

It was your typical Wednesday at Princeton Plainboro Teaching Hospital. Patients arrived at the clinic, got treated and left. Patients arrived at the hospital and got admitted and treated. Patients left the hospital after being cured.

Boring.

House bounced his big red ball against the wall and tried unsuccessfully not to look bored – unsuccessfully being the key word. He had checked the files of the newly admitted patients already – nothing really exciting about gall bladder inflammation, broken leg, car accident. The only thing that got his attention for a whole ten minutes was the guy who had tripped and fallen down the stairs and – due to the fact he had held a nail canon in his hand – inserted six steel nails into his own head. House had merely shook his head and send a mail to Wilson, suggesting to check the man for a brain tumor near the hippocampus after reading the medical history – eye problems and recurring dizziness for the last two months. One of the nails had imbedded itself into his optic nerve, but that wasn’t the reason for him tripping in the first place.

House was contemplating paging Wilson and ‘invite’ him over for a very early lunch when the object of his fantasies appeared in the doorframe. House grinned.

“Why, Jimmy, your timing is great. Have you been training?”

Brows dipped over brown eyes as Wilson stared at him in minor confusion.

“I don’t have the slightest idea what you are talking about now, House. I have a patient for you. The little girl I talked about, the patient's daughter…”

House caught the ball and leaned forward.

"Oh, this is so typical you, Jimmy. One pair of big blue eyes in a cute face and you start to care immediately. She's autistic. You can't help her."

"Green."

"What?"

"Her eyes are green. And somehow I don't think she's autistic."

"Since when do you have a degree in psychiatrics, Wilson?"

"Take a look at her," Wilson requested.

"Jimmy..."

"Please? For me?"

House sighed. There wasn't much Wilson couldn't get from him when he gave him the Look - big, brown, liquid... pleading puppy eyes. Damn. He was such a sucker for those eyes. He would never confess to it, but those eyes had been the reason for some of the cases he had taken over from Wilson. The eyes and his own rousing interest. Like with Victoria Madsen. James Wilson had made such a strong, emotional case, had gone up against Foreman with a fervor House rarely saw him display like that.

Has me wrapped around his little finger, he mused. And damn if I don't like it.

"Give me one good reason why I should do that," he challenged nevertheless. No gain in making it too easy.

Wilson sighed and fidgeted a little.

“When I talked to the mother, she was in the room, too.

"She was looking at me. Reacting to me... responding to something about me. Autistic children usually don’t do that, especially not with strangers. I think I…I sensed something. And she's not autistic."

"You sensed something?" House repeated.

Wilson nodded.

"You're using your abilities to spy on innocent little kids? Jimmy, I'm shocked!"

"House…" There was just enough exasperation in his lover's voice to tell House he was reaching his limit.

House sighed again. "All right."

"All right?"

"What else do you want to hear? It's what you came here for, right?"

"I'm just… surprised. It was almost, well, easy."

House smirked. "The magic words, Jimmy, the magic words."

"Please?"

House chuckled. "No, you sensed something."

"Oh."

House might have mentioned the puppy eyes, but his lover was insufferable enough without knowing he could make House act upon something with just a well-placed look. Then again, he might just know it anyway.

House got up with the help of his cane and nodded toward the door. "After you."

Wilson smiled. "Follow me, your majesty."

He was so tempted to give Wilson a good poke with his cane, but he restrained himself. Just this once.

* * *

The perfect little family. Middle-income Dad, devoted Mom, two kids. Probably a nice home, a dog, a cat, some hamsters. Even the cancer fit into the picture, House mused darkly. Give the perfect family a flaw, something to sadden the image, to bring the neighbors over, hold a ralley for the poor kids, to clothe them, feed them, entertain them.

House grimaced.

His eyes fell on the two kids. A boy, probably around twelve, was sitting silently beside his mother in the waiting area. The Dad was currently undergoing his umpteenth exam, a biopsy if House recalled correctly. Mom was pale but composed. The youngest was the girl, Zoe. She sat on another chair, her face a blank, her eyes looking at nothing. There seemed to be no life in the child. Her hands lay in her lap, the little dress clean and freshly ironed, it seemed, her hair bound back. She looked like an over-sized puppet.

House's eyes narrowed a little as he studied her. Even if she were traumatized by the hospital, by the newness of the environment, by her Dad's illness, she wouldn't be that statue-like.

One of Wilson's people entered the room, addressed the mother, and while the boy reacted to the new presence, listening in, the girl was… frozen. No reaction at all.

Mom rose, spoke to her son, he nodded, and they followed the doctor. House watched them go a few feet away from the waiting area, the doctor talking seriously to the mother. House didn't have to be a lip reader to know that this was bad. Wilson would probably be the next to talk to the family, give them the complete run-down of what was to be expected for the future.

Statistics. Just facts and numbers and a sprinkle of hope to beat the odds.

Leaving his watching place, House entered the waiting area. The boy looked up.

House smiled. "Hey," he greeted the two children.

"Uh, hello," came the dull reply from the boy.

The girl was silent.

House tilted his head. "You look sad."

"My Dad's in the hospital."

House nodded. "Yep, this is a hospital."

"He's really sick," the boy went on. "Mom doesn't want us to know, but I do."

House studied the girl. "Does your sister know?" he asked.

"Zoe is sick, too."

Suddenly the girl looked up, but instead of looking right at House like any normal child would, even shyly, her eyes seemed to stray past him, fixing on something left of him. She tilted her head, then a smile broke out on her face.

House watched as the smile grew into something happy, delighted, as if she was seeing a friend or a favorite puppy. As if that wasn't strange enough, Zoe's eyes began to follow the invisible something as if apparently moved across the room. She was watching, like any child would watch the bouncy puppy, the playful dog, the funny rabbit or cat. Her hands moved, strange little petting motions, and the smile was soft and so very happy.

"Hello Zoe," House addressed her gently.

There was no reaction. Despite his presence so close by, she was not looking at him at all. He didn't exist and whatever she saw, it was something entertaining.

"It's how she always is," the brother supplied helpfully.

"Who are you?" a voice interrupted House's studies and he turned, looking at a harried and desperate Mom.

"I work here," House only said, looking at the child again. "When did your daughter develop these symptoms?"

She was flustered. "After her third birthday. She's autistic. Who are you?" she repeated.

House gave a long-suffering sigh. "Who are any of us?" he asked rhetorically. "Dr. House," he added at her confused look. "Like I said, I work here."

"Pediatrics?" There was disbelief in that question, as if she didn't believe so herself. Her eyes raked over his scruffy outfit, lacking the white coat.

"No. Who tested her?"

"Dr. Morton. Why do you ask these questions?"

House still watched Zoe, who by now seemed to have something in her lap, petting it. Without answering the woman's question he turned and left.

* * *

"How long has he got?"

Wilson grimaced at the directness of the question, leaning back in the chair, hands clasped over his belly. House was behind his desk, playing with the red tennis ball again.

"Peter Chester has colorectal cancer. Stage III B. The cancer has spread to three near-by lymph nodes and beyond the middle tissue layers of the colon wall."

"Colostomy?"

"There is a method called radiofrequency ablation. It's not as invasive and we might be able to save Chester from losing part of his colon."

House's face was contemplative. "Heard about it. But Stage III?"

Wilson shrugged a little. "It's worth a try."

"But it might have spread already."

"So far, we haven't found any tumor cells anywhere else."

House nodded. "The small spark of ever-present hope."

"Hope is a healer, too."

That got Wilson a grimace. "You've been reading those little booklets again. I told you they poison the mind."

Wilson smiled a little. "So, I heard you visited Zoe and scared her Mom."

"She's a nuisance."

"You say that of every patient."

House twirled the ball in his hands. "Zoe is not autistic."

Wilson frowned.

"Autism," House explained, "is a complex developmental disability that typically appears during the first three years of life. So young Zoe fits that first fact. Autism impacts the normal development of the brain in the areas of social interaction and communication skills. Children and adults with autism typically have difficulties in verbal and non-verbal communication, social interactions, and leisure or play activities."

His brows rose as he made another point.

"Zoe again. Autism is a spectrum disorder. In other words, the symptoms and characteristics of autism can present themselves in a wide variety of combinations, from mild to severe. Although autism is defined by a certain set of behaviors, children and adults can exhibit any combination of the behaviors in any degree of severity. Two children, both with the same diagnosis, can act very differently from one another and have varying skills."

Wilson listened, keeping silent, letting his lover come to his point he was about to make.

"Zoe acts like an autistic child would. No personal interaction, no reaction."

"But she's not," Wilson more stated than asked.

"I'm not sure - yet," House answered slowly and Wilson could see the wheels in his lover's mind whirl. House was at it already. "Autism has many varieties, but none was ever seen where the patient plays with invisible friends and ignores the outside world so utterly like this child does. But one thing is certain."

"What?"

"She's paranormal."

Wilson’s jaw hit the floor.

"House, she's a child! Paranormal abilities don't manifest until puberty."

"You know that for a fact?"

"N-no ... wait, how do you know?"

Blue eyes stared at him blankly for a second and Wilson blinked.

"You… you're online?"

House kept silent.

"House, that's great! You are a Diagnostic again. How ... when?"

"A few weeks, okay? No big deal."

"You could have told me."

"There was nothing to tell. And right now, dear Jimmy, you want to know about little Zoe and her paranormal genome."

"Yes, sure, but… why didn't you tell me?" Wilson sounded disappointed.

"It didn't matter," the older man repeated.

"It does!"

"Why?" House snapped.

Wilson looked at him, confused. "Because it means the treatment worked?"

House just glared at him. "Can we stop talking about me and start talking about your favorite kid?"

Wilson inhaled deeply, hanging his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose. When he finally looked up, his expression was carefully schooled.

"Okay. You're taking her case?"

"She's not a case."

"House."

"Oh, all right! I'm bored as it is and she's moderately interesting."

"What about the others?"

"They're not interesting," came the immediately reply.

Wilson shot him That Look. "What will you tell them? Zoe Chester isn't here as a patient and you can't go poking her with sharp instruments just for the heck of it."

"Aw, shucks."

"But I could talk to the mother, tell her you're… interested." Wilson gave House that quirky little smile of his own.

House chuckled. "Right. She'll be so thrilled."

Wilson rose, smiling more. "I'll page you."

"Lunch," House remarked.

Wilson checked his watch. "Lunch," he agreed, and then he left the office.

* * *

"Dr. House is one of the world's best diagnosticians," Wilson told the rather composed looking woman.

Maggie Chester had gone through hell with her daughter and now her husband. Wilson couldn't even tell her that the treatment would be a success. Colorectal cancer was one of the worst kind, and Peter Chester might live to see his grand-children, or he might not even be around next Christmas. It was all a matter of how well his body could fight the tumor with the chemo.

"He is?" Maggie now echoed, doubt in her eyes and voice.

Wilson smiled. "Dr. House is a rather… unique doctor."

She grimaced slightly.

"He's interested in your daughter's symptoms."

"She's autistic, Dr. Wilson. There is nothing anyone can do," she said firmly.

This was a woman who had probably read all the books and websites about her child's illness and come out knowing that there was no cure for it, only treatment.

"While I would agree with a first diagnosis, I also agree with Dr. House that the symptoms aren't clear."

"Autism presents in different ways."

"That is correct," he soothed her. "But it's never bad to have a new opinion, right? A lot has been discovered in the last years."

The Soother and empath was working high time. Wilson could see the effect his abilities had on Maggie. She was stressed out and close to the limit of what she could endure. She had a sick child and a probably terminally ill husband. Her one healthy child needed her, but she couldn't abandon the others.

"What would he do?" she finally asked.

Wilson gave her another smile, one that relayed his thankfulness, his approval, his reassurance.

Then he proceeded to explain the process of a differential diagnosis to House's latest patient's mother.

* * *

"Zoe Chester, ten."

Foreman looked up from his latest journal. Like Cameron he was used to House striding – well, limping – into the room and starting a new case without a warning. Kagome just sat up straighter, dark eyes alert.

The young Japanese woman had fit very well into the small team, and she and Cameron had talked excessively about education in the US and Japan, about backgrounds, about families. Foreman had listened in, warming up to their temporary colleague without much trouble. It was hard not to like Kagome.

She was only twenty-five, married, no children, though she had hinted that she and her husband were trying. Her husband was working for a multi-national company called Shikon Enterprises. While Foreman had never heard of the company, he now knew they were well-established in Asia, had branched out to the US, and were quite active when it came to the environment. Kagome's husband was always on business trips concerning environmental issues.

"Little Zoe was diagnosed as autistic at the age of three. Sudden onset. No other symptoms known," House went on, uncapping the marker. "One sibling, a brother. He's not autistic."

"What's the case?" Foreman asked.

House gave him a mock-glare. "As I said, Zoe Chester. You really need to get your ears looked at."

"But you said she's autistic."

"She isn't."

Cameron frowned. "Who says so?"

"Me."

"You want us to do what exactly?" Foreman wanted to know.

"Run her through everything we have. Autism is a pre-defined condition. She doesn't fit."

"But she was diagnosed by another doctor?" Kagome asked.

"Never trust a doctor. People lie, doctors call it a diagnosis," House told her. "Her mother agreed, so we have her to ourselves. I want a neurological profile, Foreman. Everything. Cameron, look into the family history in detail. I want to know everything, not just the happy stuff. And you," House looked at Kagome, "don't get in the way."

Brown eyes sparked with the challenge, but she kept her mouth shut. The expression was enough, though. House smirked. So much for the traditionally raised young woman, bowing to her elders and to men. She had fire and temper, and he planned on unleashing it. Nothing like a good explosion to clear your mind and soul.

Cameron glared at House for his comment.

"Oh, and if she doesn't look at you, talk to you, even react to you, don't worry. That's how she's been since her third year."

Cameron looked surprised. "But I thought you said she's autistic…"

"Now you begin to see the light," House commented.

Foreman was equally surprised. He wasn't an expert on autism, but that sounded just… off.

"MRI, CT, PET… do the works. I want bodily fluids tested, her weight, her height, her history. Ask Mom what the kid eats, drinks and poops. Is she a sleepwalker? Was she hyperactive or a couch potato? Go, people, we don't have all day," House shooed them out of Diagnostics.

 

Walking down the hallway toward the elevators, Foreman turned to the two women. "I'll do a full neurological exam on her. You want blood and urine first?"

Cameron nodded. "We'll go over her immune system and everything else, then take it from there."

* * *

House was online again.

House was... online again!

Wilson sat in his office, the thoughts going around and around in his head, unable to stop.

His lover had regained his paranormal abilities! And he hadn't told him.

Because he didn't trust him?

Wilson felt a little stab. The trust issue had been a big problem in the beginning of their more intimate relationship, especially after House had found out that James Wilson was an ally. Wilson had never known about House being a paranormal, but it hadn't helped initially. By now he believed that his lover was coping with the whole involvement in the paranormal once more.

And he was online again. Greg's Diagnostic abilities had come back. They worked and he had tried them out on Wilson himself. Maybe he should feel flattered, but the strange unease was still there because House hadn't trusted him when it had first happened.

The door to his office opened without a prior knock and there was only one person who would enter like this. Wilson gave his lover a brief smile as House limped in.

"Thought you'd be here. You missed the egg salad special at lunch."

"You paid for your food?" Wilson replied, using an incredulous expression.

House waved him off with one hand. "Cameron," he only said.

"Of course."

"So, where were you at lunch?"

"Had an appointment."

House's eyes narrowed briefly, then he limped over to the visitor chair and sank down. "Liar."

"I'm not lying. I had an appointment," Wilson answered calmly.

"And you spent the remainder of your lunch hour till now sulking and brooding."

"No."

"Then you had a quickie with Nurse Turner?"

"House!"

House grinned. "She's pretty."

"I'm not interested."

"I would be."

"Greg…"

House leaned forward. "You are sulking."

"I'm not!"

"Because I didn't tell you."

Damn his observant streak! Wilson cursed. He should have known that his lover had picked up on that.

"No!"

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," House sang. "You feel left out. You think I don't trust you."

"N-no!"

The blue eyes were intense and Wilson wilted a little. He was an empath, but House was... House.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he finally asked.

House gave him a little smirk of triumph, of knowing, then his face became more serious.

"I wasn't sure, Jimmy. And I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up."

"But you were back!"

"I didn't know that!"

"Then why not ask for my help?"

And Wilson immediately had the answer himself: House didn't easily ask for help.

House was silent, slouched back in the chair, chin on his chest, looking at nothing. Finally his eyes met Wilson's. There was a strange expression in them.

"I haven't felt like this in a long time," he said softly. "I wanted my abilities back, and I hated myself for it. And when they were finally there, I wasn't sure it would be permanent. Even now I'm not sure."

Wilson just nodded.

"Maybe it's just a glitch and I'll reset back to no abilities. Maybe it'll stay. I didn't want to get my hopes up," House added.

James understood and the empath in him reached out and touched his lover's presence, reassuring himself and House in a way, even though House probably didn't feel anything. The smile on the scruffy features begged to differ.

"You're a lost case, Jimmy," House rumbled. "You open yourself up for pain."

"You'd never hurt me intentionally."

"Sucker."

Blue eyes met brown ones over a distance, and Wilson smiled. He felt something touch his senses, something gentle and tender and loving. House's lips twitched into a smile, then he pushed himself up and limped out of the room.

* * *

Neurological exams were a rather wide-spread test. It wasn't just about the brain, but also the spine and all the other nerve clusters an the intricate web of lines and nodes. Foreman had introduced himself to the mother, Maggie Chester, and even with House's heads-up concerning Zoe's lack of reaction, he would at least have thought to get a look. As it was, he didn't. The child was like an oversized puppet.

The goal of a neurological exam was to identify an abnormality in the nervous system, to differentiate peripheral from central nervous system lesions, and to establish internal consistency. The last was mainly about patient cooperation, but there was a total lack thereof. Zoe did nothing. She let nurses poke her, doctors prod her, she sat through blood and urine tests, never crying or complaining.

The big machines didn't scare her. She didn't fidget in the MRI or shy away from the CT, ultrasound and everything else. It was spooky, the neurologist decided.

*

"Her brain is just fine. No tumor, no lesions, no bleeding, no sign of past brain trauma. Reflex tests showed no decline in nervous system viability. She has no atrophy in any limbs. Her sensory system is perfectly all right. While she doesn't react to a human presence as such, her nerves do." Foreman shook his head. "It's not neurological."

House nodded. He looked like he had expected the diagnosis.

"As for cognitive abilities, there was no way to test for it. She doesn't react to anything. I wouldn't call it mental retardation, though."

"Her family history reads normal as well," Cameron continued. "Second child, born without complications. She developed normally according to both her mother and the doctor I called. After her third birthday she started to withdraw all of a sudden."

"When exactly?" House asked.

"Three weeks after her birthday."

He nodded, filing that away.

"At first the parents believed it was just something se was going through, but it got worse and worse. They had a children playgroup and she stopped interacting with both the nanny and the other children."

"All?"

"Yes, all. She no longer looked at them."

"What happened the day before it started?"

"According to her mother, they were shopping in Center Mall, buying new clothes for Zoe. She had gotten a plush horse, something she had always wanted and which her mother had promised her. Mrs. Chester said they went to a small indoor carnival, she was on a ride, returned, ate ice cream, and on the way home she was very silent. Mrs. Chester associated it with being tired."

House still listened thoughtfully.

"When she was abnormally silent and withdrawn, they took her to the pediatrician and she thought Zoe was coming down with the flu, but she didn't and the behavior didn't change. A week after that day, she was as we see her now. Totally withdrawn. Her parents took her from one specialist to the next, until she was finally diagnosed with autism."

"Autism doesn't manifest this quickly," Foreman argued.

House nodded. "It doesn't," he agreed. "When did she start playing with invisible friends?"

"About six months after the first symptoms. There are no clear triggers. Sometimes she goes for days without exhibiting the symptoms."

House tapped the marker against the whiteboard.

"Did she look at anyone of you?" he asked.

"No." Cameron shook her head, so did Foreman.

"Where's the new kid?"

"Dr. Higurashi is with Zoe, documenting her behavior over a prolonged stretch of time."

"Did she look at her?"

"No."

More tapping.

"She looked at Wilson," House finally said. "She always looks at him."

The others were silent.

"Could be an early stage of teenage girl crush," House went on. "Or it's just Wilson's charm when it comes to the other sex."

"She's a child!" Cameron protested.

"Haven't you ever looked up to some good looking hunk when you were a kid? What's it in your generation? Pop stars? Actors? The Chippendales?"

Cameron gave him a dark look. Kagome didn't comment, just watched.

"She doesn't talk to him, she doesn't even seem to register who he is, but she looks at him," House detailed. "When I talked to her, she was withdrawn, no reaction, until she suddenly saw something – next to me. Not me, something at my side, people. She played with whatever she saw. With you two, she shows no reaction."

House leaned on his cane, glaring at the whiteboard.

"Hallucinations in children is rare," Cameron threw in. "And if it is such a rare case, her reactions are all wrong."

House glanced briefly at her, then back at the whiteboard. "What would be the right reactions?"

"Most hallucinations in children are auditory," she answered promptly. "It happens with older children. Studies have shown that a large portion of them have below-average IQs…"

"Who tested Sarah's?"

"Zoe," Cameron corrected him automatically.

"Whoever," he brushed her off. "Who tested the girl?"

"She partook in a preschool IQ test," Foreman answered. "She's a normal child, with a normal IQ."

"Children with hallucinations have more precipitants of illness, a shorter duration of the disorder, symptoms of depression, and a family history of mood changes. They also have more symptoms suggestive of cognitive-perceptual dysfunction," Cameron finished her answer prior to the interruption. "Zoe has none of the above."

House tapped his cane against the floor again. "If she isn't hallucinating, what is she doing?"

"Children have invisible friends," Cameron argued.

"Not like that. Having an invisible friend is a normal part of a child's development and can signify a very active imagination. It's their way of interacting with an adult world," House lectured. "Zoe isn't interacting. She doesn't make a sound. She doesn't talk to them, tell them her secrets, sic them on her big brother."

"She's not autistic," Foreman said forcefully. "Whatever she has, it's not autism."

"But what is it?" House challenged.

There was only silence.

* * *

Kagome Higurashi had adjusted well to her medical training in the United States. Granted, it was different than Japan, but the frequent trips to the States with her husband or her old friend Miroku had given her a good impression of what to expect. When she had been told that a few months of internship or a junior position would help her advance in the matter of diagnostic medicine, she had applied for places. Sesshoumaru's influence as head of Shikon Enterprises had helped pave the way, even though she hadn't been thrilled.

Getting this junior position with Dr. Gregory House had been both incredibly lucky and rather shocking. House was renowned and even in Japan her teachers had talked about him. He was a genius, but he was also generally known as abrasive, rude and as far from a people person as could be. Kagome had researched into the man, had found some interesting things, some fascinating things, and a collection of genius-material papers he had published and still did. Meeting Greg House in person had been like getting doused with cold water.

But Kagome wouldn't be Kagome if she couldn't handle rude. She had handled Inuyasha and the half-demon had been about as rude as House, with a good dose of superiority complex that she had kicked out of him. Kagome Higurashi had survived feudal Japan of five hundred years ago when she had accidentally fallen through an old cursed well back through time, had battled against demons and half-demons, had helped destroy Naraku, a half-demon who had his mind set on becoming the most powerful being in all of Japan and had tried several times to get rid of her and her friends, so House was actually a picnic.

And she still enjoyed a good verbal sparring.

Now, sitting in one of the psych ward's examination rooms, she studied the young girl that was House's latest case. She wasn't a real patient in the true sense of the word. She hadn't been referred or admitted. James Wilson had asked his best friend to take a look at the child and House had become interested. It was a behavioral pattern she had discovered almost immediately. Wilson and House were close, and she knew from Foreman's rather acid remarks that they were lovers, and Wilson was like a calm balance and catalyst for the more abrasive nature.

Kagome hadn't taken well to Foreman's remarks, close to ripping him a new one by telling the neurologist that her best friends were a gay couple, and had been for five hundred years, but that wouldn't really end well. She kept her mouth shut, but she had quickly understood the off-balance dynamic. Cameron accepted House's relationship with a man, Foreman didn't.  
Zoe Chester was a mystery to Kagome. She had read about autism, but she agreed with everyone else that the girl wasn't autistic. She also had a bunch of invisible friends that Kagome thought had to be animals. She stroked and petted and played and cuddled. She followed movement around the room and sometimes an animal left, which was when she fell back into her catatonic state.

Making notes, Kagome wondered what was wrong with the girl. No apparent trauma, no organic reasons… but it had to by psychosomatic. Psychopathology wasn't her strong point. She had friends who knew more about it than her and her specialty was medical genetics, something psychopathology didn't play a huge role in.

Toys didn't interest Zoe. Not even animals. They had tried visual stimulation, showing her pictures. Kagome had used animal sounds, actual touch like a rabbit fur, and in the end she had been allowed to bring in a live rabbit, but Zoe hadn't even looked at it.

Catatonic. Aside from the stretch of time when she played with invisible friends.

A mystery.

* * *

 

The girl sat on the floor, smiling at whatever she was seeing, playing with her invisible friends. It looked like something was in her lap, something she was petting, and she looked very happy. Now and then she looked around the room as if there was someone or something other present.

House just studied her behavior through the window, his expression giving nothing away. Wilson was half a step behind him, hands in the pockets of his coat, silent.

"That's the most extreme playing so far," the oncologist remarked quietly.

Suddenly the girl looked up, past House, right at Wilson. Her face was too serious for a child, too serene, and her smile was gone. She studied Wilson and House glanced at his lover, who met the child's gaze evenly. The connection of gazes didn't last much longer than maybe ten seconds, but those were ten very long seconds. Then she turned back to her invisible friends.

"Wow," Wilson murmured.

"Wow what?" House asked immediately.

"She… looked at me."

"And you're all weak-kneed and giddy?"

"No. Actually… it was nothing special. But she looked at me, not past me or at something invisible at my side." Wilson looked a bit shaken.

"Sense something?"

"That would be a no," the oncologist answered slowly.

Higurashi was still with Zoe, making notes, trying out different stimulation, but she had no success. Finally the woman rose and left the room, nodding at Wilson and House.

"Nothing," she said. "Sensory stimulation doesn't get any reaction, neither sound nor touch nor smell or sight. There is no actual rhythm in when she plays or stops. Sometimes she simply sees something, smiles at it, then goes catatonic again. Another time she plays for minutes. The longest was fifty-three minutes." Her eyes were now on Wilson. "And then she looked at you."

Wilson nodded. He was still too stunned by the ten seconds of actual eye contact.

House's lips were a fine line and his eyes had that intense look Wilson recognized only too well. It was frustration. They were still at square one and hadn't moved a single step. If at all possible, they were moving steadily past square one to zero.

"Go home," he finally said and turned, limping away.

"I'll get the mother," Wilson told Kagome. "Do as House said. Get some rest."

She nodded and walked away. Wilson just gazed at the young girl, mind whirling.

* * *

The rain had started somewhere throughout the afternoon and it was coming down in sheets by nightfall, beating against the roof and the windows. It had people flee the streets and look for shelter. Wilson sat on the comfortable couch, watching the rain, lulled into a doze. House wasn't home yet, so when the elevator rumbled to a stop, Wilson turned his head and smiled at his rather wet lover. House had been out with the bike and looked like someone had dunked him.

"Not a word," House grumbled and peeled off his jacket.

He left small puddles where he walked.

Fifteen minutes later he came out of the bedroom, dressed in sweat pants and his habitual t-shirt, this time a black one. He got himself something to drink and grabbed the one leftover sandwich Wilson had made. He settled down next to the other man and silently ate his sandwich.

Wilson sank deeper into the pillows. In a way the rain was a calming sound. House's leg touched his. Wilson glanced at him, catching a spark in the blue eyes. He let one hand rest on House's left thigh, rubbing over it in a gentle pattern.

Outside, the thunderstorm increased, the rain beating against the window panes.  
The empath reached out and found the warm, deep presence of his lover, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the thrum of House's active presence, the touch of his aura. It was soothing all on its own and Wilson would have scoffed at it years or even months ago. He wasn't fragile or weak. He didn't need a crutch. But he needed House and the way the empathy anchored himself with the Diagnostic was proof enough. It was vulnerability, but it didn't mean he was weak.

"Two weeks."

Wilson glanced at him. House didn't meet his eyes, just stared at the windows, at the rain beating against them.

"I've been online two weeks," he explained. "It happened gradually. I only felt it because of you."

"Me?" Surprise shot through him.

"I sensed you first."

Wilson's eyes widened a little. They hadn't touched the topic of the abilities and trust ever since the moment in the office, and Wilson had simply tried to ignore it. Hearing about what House had sensed, who exactly, had him thrilled.

House grinned. "You feel okay."

"Uh, thanks, I think."

House caught the massaging hand, interlacing their fingers. He squeezed them lightly.

"I trust you, Jimmy. Never doubt it."

"Sometimes I do."

"Self-esteem problems?"

"Shut up."

He didn't meet his lover's eyes. There was nothing he could do about this, about trust and his own problems believing that House had that trust in him. House was House and he would never change. He might mellow, but he could just as well snap back to his old ways within a heartbeat. His paranormal heritage was a sore spot for him. Not because he was paranormal, but because he had been betrayed by allies who were supposed to help him, namely Stacy.

House leaned over and kissed him. "Trust you, Jimmy," he reiterated. "Don't analyze it to death."

"I'm not," he grumbled.

"You are. Now shut up and keep kissing."

He did. House's kisses were possessive and erased all other thoughts, and he willingly let him erase them.

Nothing more was said and they ended up watching an old black and white movie that was too bad to be called a classic, but highly entertaining nevertheless.

* * *

House was getting increasingly frustrated by the lack of progress when it came to Zoe Chester. She fit no diagnostic profile and since there was nothing organically wrong with her, he couldn't even prescribe any kind of drug treatment. All tests came out with a healthy kid that should be out playing with friends. But Zoe wasn't. She played with invisible things or fell into catatonic states.

The snarls grew and Cameron and Foreman just gave him wide berth whenever he was ripping their heads off, but the new girl didn't have their experience.

If there was one thing Higurashi Kagome had, it was temper and a healthy dose of fire in her veins. House looked into those dark eyes of his latest temporary junior and he saw that fire inside. Unlike Cameron, she was hard to really and truly shock with anything he said, even when it were sexual implications or references. She either came from a family with a lot of brothers or Japanese girls were raised to curse like the best of them, retaliate verbally like a pro, and not bow down in front of sarcastic authority.

She was good. She had guts. She had stamina. And House liked her.

Their latest little argument over something menial had even Foreman duck behind his neurology book.

"Osuwari!" Kagome finally exclaimed, turned, and stalked away.

Cameron, who had just been about to enter Diagnostics, was nearly run over, and she shot a glare in House's direction.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"What was it this time?"

"Nothing you, Foreman or Chase haven't been exposed to, too," he simply said and turned back to reading his magazine.

Cameron dropped her files with a loud thump. "She's here for only six months, not years!"

House glanced up once more. "I'm quite aware of that, Dr. Cameron."

"So don't you think she might want to learn something, not just listen to your insults?"

"I didn't insult her."

"So whatever she said…"

"Osuwari."

She blinked. "What?"

"She said 'osuwari'."

Cameron was caught for two seconds, then ignored the interruption. "It didn't sound like a compliment. What did you do?"

"I played nice with the new kid, Mom," House whined.

She huffed in disbelief.

House ignored her once more.

"You could at least treat her a bit nicer!"

He glanced at her. "Nice? I am nice."

"You are a bastard."

"So he's the same as always," someone commented from the door.

House glared at Wilson, who was leaning in the doorway, the glass door resting against his back. The oncologist smiled mildly.

"You could hear the cursing all the way down to the ICU."

Cameron still had her hands on her hips and her eyes flashed. "She's been here for a month and you're already tearing her apart," she accused.

"I treat her no differently than I treated Chase, you or Foreman," House corrected Cameron. "You all survived. You also learned in the process."

"I learned what a selfish, emotionally retarded, sarcastic and misanthropic bastard you are! You lack manners, you are rude, you insult people, and you drive everyone nuts!" Cameron exploded.

House grinned at her. "See? I told you you learned something."

Cameron met Wilson's mildly amused eyes. "How can you live with this man?" she demanded.

"Masochism," House said before Wilson could answer. "Jimmy needs a good whipping now and then."

That got him the Look, and Cameron stormed out of the room.

"Do you have to be so bad?" Wilson sighed and entered completely, the door gently closing behind him.

"Born to be bad," House quipped, leaning back. He put one leg onto the table, smirking.

His lover leaned against the table, expression critical. "Take it easy on the new girl."

"Why? She wrap you around her finger already?"

"We exchanged a few hellos, nothing more."

"Had a good look?" House asked, leering.

Wilson grimaced. "I'm off," he changed the topic. "You?"

House let the leg slide off the table. "How can I resist?" he teased. "What's for dinner?"

"I don't know. Your turn."

And with that, Wilson was out the office, leaving a chuckling House to pack his backpack.

* * *

"She told me to sit."

Wilson turned his attention away from the article he was reading on ovarian cancer, a mild expression of confusion on his boyish features.

"Who?"

"My new plaything."

"Kagome Higurashi?"

"It's Higurashi Kagome. Backwards. Japanese thing, you know."

Wilson waved his hand. "Whatever. It says Kagome Higurashi on her application."

"You read her application?"

That got House a mild frown. "You pushed it at me. You wanted me to read it."

"Right. Forgot that."

"So Dr. Higurashi told you to sit down? What did you do? Bump the leg?"

House grimaced. "No, Dr. Wilson, I was good and didn't exert myself. And even if I bumped it, you know the area is numbed."

"She doesn't."

"And I wasn't play-acting, rolling on the floor, clutching my thigh and screaming curses," House dead-panned.

Wilson smiled briefly. "So why did she tell you to sit down."

"Actually she screamed it like an order. As if I was a dog."

That had the younger man chuckle. "Should I invest in a collar?"

House smirked. "Bondage, Jimmy?"

"A collar and a muzzle. That might do it," Wilson continued thoughtfully, ignoring the remark.

"Oh, very kinky. I knew you'd show your dominant side one day."

Wilson rolled his eyes.

"In her own words, she yelled 'osuwari' at me."

"Osuwari?"

"The very same."

"And that is…?"

"Japanese, Jimmy." House gave him an exaggerated look of exasperation.

"Excuse me for my rusty Japanese," the oncologist murmured. His eyes narrowed at his lover. "I didn't know you spoke."

"I never said I did."

"But you understood her."

House smirked more.

Wilson tilted his head a little. "So you read Portugese, Hindi, understand Japanese…"

"I can read it."

"Japanese?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"The Tokyo Journal of Genetic Disease loses so much in translation."

Wilson simply accepted that, like he did so many things about Gregory House. His lover was a genius in his own rights and he had many quirks, and he managed to surprise one again and again. Sometimes it was just for shock value, sometimes, like now, it came up without the benefit of seeing one of his juniors gape like a gold fish.

"How many?" Wilson now only asked.

"How many what?"

"Languages."

"No idea."

"Okay, so how many foreign language journals do you get?"

And House got a lot of stuff each week by mail. Wilson was amazed by what his lover read, but it shouldn't really surprise him. The man loved knowledge, he always wanted to know more about something or other, and he was intrigued by medical mysteries. House's home office looked like the National Library on Medical Journals world wide. Small piles were also next to his bed, some in the bathroom, and sometimes Wilson found them among his things, too.

"I stopped counting."

So it was a lot.

"Coming back to Kagome…"

"First name basis, Jimmy?"

Wilson groaned. "Will you just leave it?"

"She's married, you know. Probably drop dead gorgeous husband, very jealous and all."

"I'm not dating her!"

House waggled his eyebrows. "She's a beautiful woman. I would date her if I were in your shoes."

"But you're not in my shoes and I'm not dating her."

"Your loss."

Wilson ignored him.

"What did you say to her?" he asked instead.

House shrugged. "I don't know any more."

"You're impossible."

"But you love me."

"Is this a sex thing again?"

"Everything is a sex thing, Jimmy. How is your thing?"

Brown eyes flashed with exasperation. He pointedly returned to his article and heard House's brief chuckle.

*

It was when Wilson got up to warm up dinner that House followed him. He got himself a beer and watched his lover prepare the food. With the microwave running, House stepped forward and slipped an arm around his lover's waist, drawing him close. His fingers wriggled under the loose shirt, something he enjoyed on his otherwise so primly dressed partner, ghosting over warm stomach skin.

Wilson shot him a quizzical look, but House only leaned forward, brushing his lips over the slightly smaller man's cheek to his temple.

Greg House was a gentle lover, very tender, and aside from Wilson and Stacy, no one really knew it. The brashness and rudeness was a good cover. A very good cover. No one would believe otherwise. Wilson could attest to the tenderness, how House took care never to hurt him, though sometimes their love-making grew rougher, more demanding.

House kissed a spot behind Wilson's ear, drawing small circles over his stomach, fingertips briefly brushing over the waist band of Wilson's jeans.

James turned fully, the hand on his stomach slipping away, catching House's lips in a full kiss that was happily returned. Again, House's finger went underneath the shirt, pushing it up across the ribs, revealing more skin. Wilson hummed into the contact.

The beep of the microwave interrupted and James pulled back, though House wouldn't let go. Blue eyes burned with emotions as he looked at the other man, the man he loved. Wilson's chocolate depths were reflecting the emotions, a smile tugging at the slightly reddened lips.

"If you want dinner you have to let me go," Wilson said calmly.

House's hands still teased over the oncologist's skin. "What if I don't want dinner?"

"That would be a first."

"I'm ascetic."

"Right." Disbelief swung in Wilson's voice.

"I lived off soup and peanut butter before I hired my personal cook, according to a certain someone."

"Personal cook, huh?"

"And sex toy."

"Let's not forget that."

House pulled him closer, brushing their lips together. "Let's not," he murmured.

Stubble scraped over clean-shaven skin and House felt his lover's growing arousal. Neither was a hormone-driven teenager, but the slow, erotic touches were showing results.

"If I faint because of lack of food, you're to blame," Wilson muttered.

"You won't."

The microwave beeped again, reminding them that the food was now ready. Wilson reached out and managed to push the 'stop' button. House launched another attack on the smooth neck, delivering a little bite that had Wilson protest.

"They already know, Jimmy," House whispered, pulling him tightly against him. "They don't care."

The kissing grew more intense, the heat between the two bodies rising, and the hard evidence was straining against pants. Wilson's right hand suddenly groped south and House gasped as it squeezed him.

"Hell!" he whispered.

The curse grew more prolific when Wilson sank onto his knees in front of him and freed his erection. House groaned as a warm, wet cavern engulfed him.

"Jimmy!"

Strong hands grabbed his hips and he had to hold on to the kitchen counter behind him. His world narrowed down to the suction, the wetness, the tongue and slight scrape of teeth, and House cried out softly.

"Jimmy!" he repeated, pushing at his lover's head. "Stop!"

His lover obediently released him and those dark eyes smirked knowingly at him. Wilson licked his lips and House groaned silently. Shit.

"In bed," he said hoarsely.

"I like it here," was the husky reply.

Good god… that voice… those eyes…

House closed his eyes, swallowing hard.

Wilson got up, pressing close, House's hardness trapped between them. The empath kissed him sensually.

"You want it?" Wilson murmured.

House's mind blanked and the last functional braincell wondered whether this was the influence of the empath or just the fact that he loved James Wilson this much.

"You have to ask?"

There was an almost audible purr in the younger man's voice. "I hope not."

House pulled him close into a hard, demanding kiss.

* * *

House felt a pleasant twinge in his backside. The soreness would fade. He didn't mind it at all. He turned sleepily in the arms of his lover, feeling Wilson's chest rise and fall in a clear sleeping rhythm. James was still in dreamland.

So he stayed for a while longer, enjoying the closeness, the warmth, the familiar, hard body. So not like a woman's. All the wrong angles, but so very right.

His lover.

He finally pushed away and looked at the sleep-smoothed features, almost chuckling to himself. Wilson looked years younger, especially with his hair growing out again and falling into his face.

Robbing the cradle, he mused.

He'd never say anything about it to Wilson. His lover didn't like to be reminded of his youthful appearance when it came to his job because he had had trouble with patients or relatives already. Some people judged by the cover, and this cover looked too young to be the head of oncology. That Wilson was one of the youngest department heads was another matter, but he was also good. Damn good.

House got up and limped silently into the living room. His backside reminded him of the pleasure of Wilson inside him as he lowered himself onto the recliner. He didn't feel tired enough to sleep, so he switched on the reading lamp and paged through the magazine Wilson had read earlier.

A few minutes later he was engrossed in reading.

* * *

"Can I help you?" House asked gruffly as he limped into his office, finding he had a visitor.

The man was about Wilson's size, with black hair, tanned features, and alert eyes. He was dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt and a leather jacket, exuding an air of handsome rebel. Handsome, exotic rebel, House thought as he examined the newcomer. He had an Asian look to him, but his features weren't as Japanese as Higurashi's. He looked like a distant relative had been Japanese in his line of ancestors. And then there were the blue eyes. So not Japanese.

"Koshiro Akigawa," he introduced himself, holding out his hand with a smile.

House ignored it and the man let it drop to his side, not looking offended.

"My wife is working for you."

"We rarely get conjugal visits," House told him gruffly.

Wilson rolled his eyes, but he kept his mouth shut.

Akigawa smirked. "Probably not."

"Are you here to pick up your wife?" Wilson wanted to know, trying to save the conversation as much as it could be saved.

"She told me to wait for her. She'd be off at four." Akigawa shrugged. "I hope I'm not in the way?"

"You are," House snapped.

"Don't listen to him," Wilson added immediately, stroking hopefully not too ruffled feathers.

He couldn't get a fix on the man's emotions, probably because he was too busy trying to soothe House into a manageable state of mind – which was hazardous at best.

"No, don't listen to me. I'm just your wife's boss," House growled.

Akigawa didn't seem to be offended at all. If anything, he appeared rather amused. "I'll just wait outside," he answered.

"Very good idea!" House replied harshly.

The man left and Wilson rounded on his lover. "What the heck is wrong with you? I understand frustration over the Chester case, but you have mood swings that come and go with individuals. Not even Cuddy can make you snap that hard, that bad and that fast."

House stared at the glass door. Akigawa was already gone and probably haunting the hallways, waiting for his wife.

"Something's wrong," House muttered, twirling his cane.

Wilson gave him a quizzical look. "You don't like him. I figured that out."

"I didn't say that."

"But you don't."

"Something's off about him."

"He's married to one of your juniors."

"Temp junior."

Wilson tilted his head a fraction, acknowledging that.

"You never had a married team member before."

"Got you."

"First, I'm not part of your team."

"Details," House grumbled.

"Second, I'm divorced."

"Weren't always."

Wilson sighed with exasperation. "And third, this isn't about me. What don't you like about him?"

The twirling cane stopped and bumped against the floor. "I don't know."

"So you don't like him on principle?"

House was silent, staring off into space. "He feels… off."

That had Wilson straighten abruptly. "You're not just saying that, right?" he demanded.

House gave him a narrow-eyed look.

Wilson exhaled sharply. "You weren't around him long enough for the Diagnostic to feel anything…"

"Tell me about it. I don't like him either. It shouldn't happen."

Wilson's face was serious. "No, it shouldn't," he agreed. "What did you feel, aside from animosity?"

House exhaled explosively. "I'm not sure. He feels… strange. Not like those I accidentally log onto."

"Like Zoe?"

House didn't answer, still staring off into space. "He felt almost… not paranormal. Not like… you."

Wilson tensed a little more. Like him, the empath, who was easily logging on to House, House had found it rather easy to let the Diagnostic turn to Wilson and check him.

"It's an intense, sudden sensation. Like what I see isn't what he looks like."

Wilson's frown deepened. House straightened abruptly.

"And I don't like him," he added.

"Yes, we kind of straightened that out already."

Wilson looked thoughtful, almost lost in whatever was going through his head. "You think he might be a paranormal?" he finally asked.

"How should I know?"

"Have you ever Diagnosed a paranormal?"

House frowned. "Of course."

"Aside from me, Greg. And recently, not years ago."

House was silent.

"Ah." Wilson chewed his lower lip. "So he might be a strong paranormal."

His lover didn't answer, just started to limp toward the door. Wilson shook his head, following to avoid collateral damage. It was bad as it was; House didn't have to make it even worse.

 

They found Akigawa in the general waiting area, watching the bustle around him.

Maybe it was coincidence, maybe it was fate, but the two men arrived the moment Kagome and Cameron exited the elevator, Cameron pushing Zoe in a wheelchair. Her mother was also in the waiting zone, taking her daughter home for the weekend.

Kagome caught sight of her husband and smiled, nodding, saying something to Cameron, who gave Akigawa a once-over. She seemed to like what she saw.

Zoe smiled all of a sudden, her face breaking into such an expression of joy, it was like she was getting a pony for her birthday. No sound left her lips, but she jumped out of the wheelchair and raced toward Akigawa, who stood stunned and surprised. Small arms wrapped around his legs and he was hugged by the girl.

Wide eyes looked up at him, alight with happiness, and when she looked past his left thigh and at something that wasn't there. Hands reached into thin air, apparently grasping something, petting something, and Akigawa's eyes widened more.

"What…?" he stammered.

Cameron was staring at him. Her face reflected the same surprise.

Maggie Chester opened her mouth, stuttering an excuse at Akigawa, but he waved it off. The girl released him, still smiling, but when her mother gathered her into her arms, the smile slipped away and she fell back into the catatonic state everyone knew.

Maggie's eyes filled with desperation. "Why does she react to strangers?" she asked, looking at Cameron, seeking the answer. "Why doesn't she hug me, but a total stranger?!"

No one could answer the question. In her arms, Zoe was totally quiet, as if someone had removed her batteries.

* * *

"How's Dad?"

Wilson looked up from his reading material, a rather straight-forward report on another patient who was under one of his doctors' care.

"Declining," he answered.

House limped into the office, sinking onto the chair. He tapped the cane onto the floor.

"How's the kid?"

"No change," was the unhappy reply.

It was new for House to have such a long diagnostic process on a patient. Especially a patient he couldn't treat with medication, shots or some kind of other therapy to coax symptoms out of the body or alleviate already existing trouble.

"Peter Chester is undergoing his third surgery today," Wilson told him. "We have to remove part of his colon."

"How big a part?"

He grimaced slightly. "A lot. We can't suture the ends, so it's a bag for now."

House nodded. "What do you make of him?"

Confusion crossed the handsome features. "Chester?"

"No, Higurashi's boy."

"Husband," Wilson corrected him mildly.

"Whatever," was the dismissive snort. "Zoe hugged him. Something's wrong."

Wilson leaned back, hands folded on his stomach. "It is a break in her pattern. She has yet to actually touch someone. Even though she looks at me, I have this feeling that she isn't looking at me."

House tapped the cane again. "What do you make of him?" he repeated his question.

Wilson shook his head. "Nothing. I get nothing from him, Greg. It's not surprising, really. I'm low level," he reminded his lover.

House was silent, the cane continuing his bump-bump-bump rhythm.

"What do you make of him?" Wilson asked into the almost-silence.

"I don't like him," House only said, his voice holding a far away quality.

"Well, yes, I know that. But aside from the non-existing human connection…?"

"I don't like him there either."

Wilson frowned. For the Diagnostic to react adversely to Higurashi's husband, there had to be something more than House's animosity toward strangers married to one of his juniors. His lover looked disturbed by his own dislike, something he couldn't explain, and coupled with Zoe's reaction to Akigawa, it had House's mind on overdrive.

"Talk to him," Wilson suggested.

House didn't react.

Suddenly he slammed the end of the cane onto the floor with a loud bang, then got up. He looked extremely pissed off, a mix of his inability to diagnose Zoe, the strangeness of her reactions, and the fact that the Diagnostic in him disliked Koshiro Akigawa on no visible basis.

Without another word he left and Wilson was left behind, his own sharp mind going through the muted waves of emotions he had picked up. There was nothing dangerous, just the turmoil his lover was going through – something he couldn't help him with right now.

He would wait and see.

* * *

House couldn't let go of the fact that Zoe Chester had reacted to and hugged a total stranger, seeing something no one else could as she initiated a physical contact that had stunned everyone. The small scene was going around and around in his head, and he tried to look at it from all angles, but nothing jumped out.

Nothing at all.

Damn.

His only solution was to actually go to the source of the change in Zoe, Koshiro Agikawa. Something about him made him dislike the man, and something about him made Zoe hug him.

Going through the file from his temp junior he found the address Kagome lived at. It was already late, but he didn't care. Driving his bike through the thinning traffic, weaving in and out of streets, he finally found himself in front of an apartment building. It was a nice one, clean and rather new, and the rents had to be higher than a temp junior from Japan should be able to pay, but this was probably Daddy helping his darling daughter.

If Kagome was surprised to see him, she hid it well. If her husband felt the same, he hid it just as well.

What foreign junior took her husband along from Japan to the US? House wondered. She didn't make enough money and he didn't look like the guy to have a well-paid job.

Huh.

"Dr. House," Kagome greeted him. "What can I do for you?"

House thought he heard the words 'is the phone broken or why didn't you call first?' in her polite words. Kagome was good at pointed words and looks, and she had a nice temper, but she had yet to reach the level of perfection House had.

He looked past his employee and right into the strange blue eyes of her husband.

"She hugged you."

Akigawa shrugged. "Yes."

"So far she hasn't touched a single stranger like she did you. And she didn't just touch you, she hugged you," House repeated.

"Uh, okay. So?"

"She also didn't play with something at your side or look anywhere else but you. She seemed to be fascinated with something on you."

House's sharp eyes saw the slight shift in the younger man's stance. Yep, bingo, bull's eye. He leaned forward, voice dropping.

"I don't know what exactly you are, my friend, but I know that whatever it is, it registers strongly."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You're not who you seem to be."

Now the shift was more pronounced and House saw the surprise in the blue eyes. There was also alarm in Kagome's stance and House nodded to himself. Whatever this was, she knew about it.

"Is it custom to insult visitors?" she snapped.

"No, just pesky Japanese who get in the way," he shot back.

Her eyes flared and he knew the temper was rising.

"Everybody lies," House added, smiling nastily. "And your lies beat 'em all, don't they?"

Akigawa shifted his weight a little, one hand touching his wife's arm in a calming caress. "What's your lie?"

"I'm not the warm, cuddly fun guy everybody loves around here," House quipped.

That got him a humorless grin. "Good cover."

"Think so myself."

"Why do you think my lie is bigger?"

House pointed his cane at him. "Because you just said so."

Dark brows rose.

"I'm a Diagnostic, kid. You can't fool me."

The brows rose higher and surprise registered on the youthful features. Kagome's mouth dropped open and she stared.

"Ring a bell?" House taunted.

The couple exchanged tell-tale looks and Kagome nodded minutely. Something was happening here, and it wasn't some form of paranormal communication. It was as if either or both had suspected this day might come. If House had had any doubt about his rather risky game's result, he was now one hundred percent certain he was facing a paranormal.

"Kagome never mentioned you were a paranormal, Dr. House," the younger man said quietly.

House smirked at the woman in question. "She doesn't know. I didn't know she's married to one either."

"You know how the hiding works," Akigawa said quietly.

"You hide well."

The dark head inclined briefly. "We have to."

House radiated expectant silence. Akigawa just gestured toward the seating group, an invitation. House took it and while Kagome looked far from happy, she wordlessly took some cold drinks out of the fridge.

"My name, the name I was born with, is Kouga. I'm what my culture calls a youkai, a demon, Dr. House," Akigawa explained calmly. "Unlike Western paranormals, my kind went underground, hiding from humanity. Some mixed, giving birth to hanyou children, the half-demons. Only a handful of purebloods are left."

House frowned. He had never heard about demons, half-demons or purebloods in relation to paranormals. It was all a matter of genetics and how strongly two lines interwove. Through Wilson he had submerged himself into the world of the paranormal once more, learning what was out there, what the Nexus tried to help and protect, and the word Sidhe had dropped once or twice. They were 'purebloods', if there was a real term for the strong genetic traits.

Akigawa, no, Kouga smiled. "Like I said, Western culture doesn't know us. We are what the American Indian Nations called their spirits, what the Egyptians called gods, and what in Japan was and is even today called a youkai. Civilization drove us into hiding, nearly eradicating the youkai. Our genes are still there, but not many survived."

"You did."

"Yes."

"And the girl can see you."

"I'm not sure how much she can see. Kagome told me she has invisible friends, that the only person she looks at is Dr. Wilson."

"Tattle tale," House grumbled.

Kagome grimaced and she was probably only seconds away from sticking out her tongue at him. So far she had kept quiet, but her alert eyes told House she was ready to intervene.

Kouga smiled again.

"So what does she see?" the Diagnostic wanted to know. "Aside from the baby blues and the handsome face?"

"She probably sees my true self. I'm a wolf youkai."

"Werewolf?" House translated.

"No. Werewolves are made, wolf youkai are born. I don't create more of my kind by biting someone, I'm not subjected to the power of the full moon, and my wolf traits are also visible when I'm human." Kouga shrugged a little under House's interested gaze. "We learned to create mirages, Dr. House. What you see is not what I look like."

"But Zoe can see it."

"Apparently."

House frowned thoughtfully. It was another puzzle piece and so far, the picture was a very strange one. Blue eyes studied blue eyes. Finally he transferred his gaze to Kagome.

"This won't get you any brownie points," House remarked.

She rolled her eyes. "I wasn't looking for any, Dr. House. If I had wanted to impress you like that, I would have told you right away, but I didn't come to this hospital because of the paranormal element. I have enough of it at home."

House drummed his fingers on the cane. "That she can see you doesn't help us in diagnosing her," he finally said. "It's actually a drawback. So far she only reacted to Wilson and that was just a direct look into his eyes. Could have been his charm." He smirked. "So you're either the most charming man in the world that even catatonic kids hug you, or there is something even more about that girl."

Kouga shrugged. "In the time I was born, children rarely feared what was different. I had better experiences with children than adults when it came to being different."

"The innocence of children," House murmured. "But this isn't innocence. This is something else."

He rose abruptly. Looking at Kagome, he discovered her frown, her apprehensive posture. House smiled briefly.

"Got any more surprises? Another boyfriend?"

She sighed. "No."

"Good. At my age, change is difficult to work through."

She rolled her eyes and her husband grinned slightly.

House left a few minutes later, mind once more in overdrive concerning the revelations. This was getting better and better…

*

“You didn’t tell me she was fascinated with something on you,” Kagome said softly, watching her husband closely as she slipped beside him onto the couch.

Kouga looked a bit embarrassed. “Yeah, well… I didn’t think it was that important.”

“But it is. She saw you, Kouga. Like you are.”

“Obviously. Jealous?”

“Don’t be silly.”

Kagome pulled her husband close, her lips brushing over his in the gentle way she knew he loved, and let them both sink back into the cushions. One finger teasingly running over a pointed ear she felt him shudder above her, the kiss deepening. She smiled into the kiss and ran her fingers over his back, und the shirt he was wearing and even lower.

Kouga moaned and pressed his body into her with growing excitement when she brushed over the nerve bundle just at the root of his wolf tail.

“You’re obsessed…“ he murmured hoarsely.

“And you love it.”

“You bet.”

* * *

"Demons?" Wilson echoed, eyes wide.

"Yep."

"No way. There are no demons!"

"Maybe not like we know them from the movie industry," House agreed, "but you told me how that came to be. I think that what different cultures call native spirits or demons are the ancestors of beings like the werewolves or even the vampires. It had to start somewhere, Jimmy. Why not with one of what this Kouga calls 'purebloods'?"

Wilson pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "This is crazy, Greg."

"No, it's just another puzzle in the evolution of the paranormal."

"He claims he's over five hundred years old!"

"So?"

"It's impossible."

"How do you know?"

"I.. it's…" Wilson stuttered, trailing off. "I don't know," he said weakly.

"So it's possible."

House had discussed vampire origin with Dr. Nathan Jackson before, claiming that somewhere in the past a human being with a skin or blood condition like porphyria had either come in contact with magic or had been a magic user himself. That mix had led to vampirism. There were so many illnesses, genetic diseases, that came close to what myth and legend called vampirism, there had to be a single source, a first outbreak. He believed the same about werewolves. There were people with excess hair growth, people who suffered greatly from looking like wilds beasts, and maybe they had somehow contributed to the true existence of the were.

"I think we should call Vin," Wilson said after a moment.

* * *

Vin Tanner had resigned from his job at the Salt Lake PD about six months ago. It hadn't been because of job pressure, peer problems or the wish to do something else. Vin loved forensics. He was a CSI with heart and soul, but ever since he had helped to create the Nexus, that part of his life, the paranormal, had grown. The Nexus was branching out, demanding more time and resources, and because Vin took the creation of this information network seriously, there had been only this one choice: give up his job and pour all his energy into making the Nexus viable.

He had help, of course. There was for one Karen Dunne, JD's wife. She had a degree in business management and while she had helped out at the Grotto as a temp job to finance her studies, she had seamlessly slid into managing and organization. She was a huge asset for Vin, spending hours on hours cataloging and filing the information they were getting from everywhere.

Buck Wilmington, Vin's life-partner of so many years, was supporting his lover as best as he could. He was still working for the CSI and with it The Branch, but like many of their team he knew it wouldn't be forever. Like Tanner, Buck was a werewolf and were aged very slowly. Ever since both men had been turned, their aging process had almost completely stopped. Chris Larabee, their boss and friend, had the same problem with aging since he was a vampire. Josiah Sanchez was a Phoenix, and while he aged, dying resurrected him and he would once again be the age when the Phoenix gene had been triggered. That had been in his mid-thirties. JD was a warlock, also quite long living, and Nathan, while being the only non-paranormal of the group, had accidentally been hit with the accumulated life essence of vampires. There was an estimate that he had about thirty extra years by now.

It was nice to know that life was extended, but it was a problem in everyday interaction, and one day would come the time when more of their team had to leave their job behind.

For now, Vin gave it little thought. He was too busy with the Nexus.

 

That he got a call from Dr. James Wilson wasn't really that much of a surprise. The man had been an ally until his paranormal abilities had broken through at a very late age. He still worked with Nathan on that pain drug, a project that took up most of Nathan's free time. There had been set-backs, there were always new questions, and neither Wilson nor Nathan were ready for trial runs with volunteers. Too much could still go wrong.

Vin liked the new paranormal. When he had heard that the oncologist had developed empathic powers, Nathan had been surprised as the next, but he had taken it in a stride. Things like that happened, though abilities manifesting that late in life were rare. That this man was also involved with someone who seemed to be his complete opposite didn't ruffle Vin much. He had seen their spirit guides and he had seen the affection.

"You'd need a shaman to tell what she is," Vin told Wilson when the other man had explained what was going on. "But her looking at something that isn't there sounds familiar in a way."

Very familiar. Familiar as in… what his abilities were.

"You know what she is?" Wilson asked.

"House says she's a paranormal?" Vin wanted to know.

"Yes."

"How sure is he?"

He could almost imagine the exasperated eye-roll. "Vin, he's a Diagnostic and while his powers just came back, it's his ability."

Vin nodded to himself. "Zoe might be a spirit walker, but if she is, it's not a paranormal trait. Some people can see into the spirit plane and it has nothing to do with being paranormal. I can do it and I don't have the hint of paranormal."

Lycantrophy was an illness, like vampirism, according to Nathan. Were and vampires were bitten and infected. They weren't born naturally.

Thoughtful silence greeted his words.

"Know any shamans in this area?" Wilson finally asked.

Vin chuckled. "Actually, yeah, I do, but I'm not sure anyone from here can just fly up to New York. But I think there's someone in the vicinity. We met when Buck and I went to New York and while he isn't the run-of-the-mill shaman, he is perfect for this."

"Who?"

"Let me get back to you about this. I need to call him first, see if he can make the trip."

"Okay," Wilson agreed. "Thanks, Vin."

"Anytime."

They exchanged a few more words, Wilson answering Vin's questions about what happened to him, how House was doing, and Vin told the empath about recent developments in the Nexus. While Wilson wasn't officially part of the tight center of the information network, he was contributing a lot. Nathan valued his work, spoke highly of him, and lately, Gregory House had come into the equation as well. His ideas on the origin of vampirism had struck Nathan speechless and the doctor had spent days researching into it.

 

After hanging up, Vin looked up the private cell extension of Detective Dee Latener, NYPD.

* * *

It came as a surprise that Vin Tanner walked into the hospital twenty-four hours later, asking for Dr. Wilson.

"You didn't have to fly here," Wilson said as he led the other man to his office.

Vin shrugged. He was dressed in washed-out jeans, a white t-shirt with a leather jacket hanging loosely open. He had turned a few of the nurses' heads and he was quite aware of it, but he wasn't interested. Buck hadn't been able to come with him, even though he would have liked to. Chris had firmly decided that Vin Tanner and Buck Wilmington alone in New York were not worth the risk, declaring that they were simply too much of trouble magnets when left on their own.

Vin had to smile to himself. Not that he and his partner tried anything remotely like what happened whenever they went out of town – like stumbling over the shamans, for example, finding that there was much more in the big picture than they had ever dared thinking about. Like Hugh Farnham III, the Kitsune. Or Phoenix Gil Grissom with his Mimic partner, Nick Stokes. It had all happened purely by accident, really. And they weren't even in New York per se, just close by. Anyway, there was a case and Buck was needed.

As the door closed after them Vin added, "No, I didn't have to come, but for one, I'm curious. And the man I called, the shaman, is currently wrapped up in a case and won't be able to make it for another day. I might be able to make a preliminary diagnosis, so to speak."

Wilson nodded. "Did Buck come along?"

"Nope. Same problem as our shaman: case. And the fact that Chris won't let us go anywhere together because we keep attracting trouble and weird things." Vin flashed him a smile. "Total humbug, if you ask me."

Wilson chuckled. "If you say so. It's good to see you anyway."

"Same here. You had quite some changes coming, Doc."

Wilson sighed a little, looking uncomfortable. "Yes, and it's not like I was trying to either. Apparently it runs in the family and it runs quite strongly."

The office door opened with a flourish and both men turned, looking at House. The Diagnostic stood in the doorway, tilting his head.

"Well, hello," he only said.

"Dr. House," Tanner greeted him.

"Since when do you take the door?" Wilson asked.

"Since my Superman cape is at the dry cleaner's. I don't fly through windows without it," House shot back.

Wilson looked exasperated. "He's more of a balcony man," he told Vin with a fine smile.

"Especially a sex on the balcony man," House quipped, grinning. "So, you're the expert?"

"No, I'm the stand-in," Vin replied. "I have a suspicion as to what the whole 'invisible friends' thing is, but if I'm right, it's not normal."

"Seeing things that aren't there was never normal," House remarked. "The whole 'wrong in the head' routine." He made circular motions at his temple, indicating 'raving mad'.

"In the paranormal world, seeing things others can't see isn't madness. It's ability."

House huffed a little.

"She's ten," Wilson argued. "She hasn't reached puberty yet, Vin. She can't be paranormal."

He shrugged. "Let me have a look before we argue?"

Wilson agreed and they started off toward the room where Zoe stayed throughout the examination. Her mother had taken the long diagnostic process more or less in a stride so far. She was too busy balancing everything at home with what was happening here. Their son, Harry, kept her life on a schedule, since he wasn't sick and had to go to school, soccer games and whatnot. Her husband was declining, but still going stronger than Wilson had hoped for. He was a fighter, but the cancer was relentless.

*

Vin stared through the glass walls into the room behind, feeling totally dumbfound at the sight. There was little Zoe sitting on the floor, all right – but she was far from alone. Although it was very clear to him that – apart from Zoe – he was the only one in this hospital able to see her companions.

“Tanner?”

Vin glanced briefly over his shoulder, acknowledging House’s presence. Wilson was at his side. No one else was around, though some nurses were not far away, but they were out of earshot.

“She’s definitely not autistic,” Vin said softly.

“If you say so, doctor.”

Vin ignored the sarcastic remark and slipped through the door. The room was a normal treatment room, though one reserved for children who weren't near death or needed machines. It had colorful pictures, drawn by children, it had books and toys, and stuffed animals. Vin crouched down slowly as to not alarm any of the current non-plush inhabitants of the room – least of all the large grizzly that was watching him closely from wise eyes.

Zoe ignored him. Her attention was on a fox that was nuzzling her hands. Her fingers were buried in its fur and she looked very happy.

 

Outside, Wilson watched the display with confusion.

“What the hell is he doing?”

House's eyes were on Tanner, his weight resting on the cane. “I don’t know. Let’s just hope he knows what he’s doing.”

"I trust Vin," his lover replied.

"It's not a matter of trust. It's knowing where to stick the sharp end of the scalpel, Jimmy."

Wilson grimaced a little.

 

Vin carefully kneeled down in front of Zoe, feeling more than one pair of eyes on him. He had no idea what the animals would do should he try to harm Zoe at this moment and he had no intention to find out. He merely wanted to test his thesis.

While Vin was by now a rather seasoned spirit walker, there were things no one had told him yet -- so far anyway. It wasn't something that had come up either. He could touch his own spirit animal, but what about others? He had never tried. Could the animals touch him? Could they harm him? Could they hurt him physically? Because if that was possible, then the bear watching him was as dangerous as a live grizzly bear in the wild. This one was protecting Zoe.

Slowly stretching out a hand he felt his gecko scuttle down his arm and settle onto the palm. Little head tilting from one side to the other the small spirit animal was regarding the girl – and Zoe slowly turned her attention toward it. Vin almost held his breath as a smile flickered over the little girl’s face and she slowly reached out to his lizard – one finger carefully stroking over the head gently.

If lizards could purr… as it was the little one only closed its eyes and turned its head as to indicate where it wanted to be petted.

“It’s a gecko,“ Vin said softly, not really expecting an answer. “The bear is yours, hm?"

He didn't get an answer either.

"Looks really big and strong. Whyever would you need such a strong protector, little one?”

Of course Zoe didn’t respond, but the grizzly snorted. The sudden sound elicited a hiss from his gecko, and Vin stood up slowly. His spirit animal scurried back up his arm, looking outraged, skin flaps flaring.

It was another thing about spirit guides. Their size didn't matter at all. This tiny little lizard was as dangerous as the bear, even though he didn't look like it, and Vin had no illusion that the bear could just squash it. Far from it.

“No longer welcome, huh? Calm down, big feller, I can take a hint.”

As the werewolf turned to the door something white and fluffy scurried over his feet, and he couldn’t suppress a grin at the sight of the mink snuggling into Zoe’s lap, squeaking happily as the little girl scratched its belly. If House only knew…

*

"So, what's the diagnosis?" House asked the moment Vin left the room. "Or do we need a second rubber cell for you now?" Brows rose.

Vin chuckled. "No, thanks. I like my hotel room just fine. As for the diagnosis, I can only tell you the non-paranormal side. James mentioned you think she's paranormal?"

House nodded slowly.

"I don't know about that, but I know she can see spirit animals."

Wilson's eyes widened. House took it rather stoically, not twitching a muscle.

"Seeing spirit animals is exclusive to shamans and spirit walkers. She can't be a shaman," Vin went on. "She's too young. Shaman powers aren't harbored by children. As for being a spirit walker… I wouldn't be able to tell. That's what we need a shaman for. Spirit walkers aren't paranormals, though. She's also way too young to be one either."

Wilson shook his head, eyes traveling to the room further down the corridor where Zoe was.

"What did you show her?" House interrupted the silence.

Vin blinked. "Huh?"

"You showed her something."

"My spirit guide."

House raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"It's a gecko."

"Does she have one?" he wanted to know.

Vin was surprised by the question, but he shouldn't have been. House's mind was sharp as a knife and he was good at watching people.

"Yes. A bear. A grizzly. And before you ask, size doesn't matter, though hers being a huge bear is… surprising."

House looked thoughtful. "What about this Kouga person?"

Vin was confused. "Kouga?"

"Didn't we mention the guy who claims to be a wolf demon?" House looked all innocent.

"What?!"

"We have a temporary junior," Wilson explained. "Her name is Higurashi Kagome. Her husband visited her a few days ago and Zoe reacted to him. She actually hugged him and touched something invisible, smiling all the time."

Vin was speechless. That was so far from a spirit walker, it blew all theories.

"I talked to him," House supplied, glee in his eyes. "He claims he is a wolf demon, something like the mother of all werewolves, old, and hiding what he truly looks like."

"We think Zoe can see him for what he is."

"Hot damn!" Vin whispered, then frowned all of a sudden. "You said Higurashi? Sounds Japanese."

"She is."

"Uh-huh."

"What?" House demanded.

"Nothing I want to share just yet. I need to make a few calls, check on something." Vin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Damn."

House and Wilson exchanged brief looks, but neither said anything.

"What are the other animals she's playing with?" the Diagnostic asked all of a sudden. "Or better – whose?"

Vin smiled a little. "They are from all over the spirit plane. They come visit. Spirit guides don't always stick around. Most of the time you see them when there is a need, when the animal itself feels needed. Zoe is very comfortable with them all and they all know her. This is quite unheard of, too, as far as I know. Usually even shamans stick to interact with their own spirit guide. I really need to make a few calls."

Again House was thinking, finally those blue eyes fixed on Vin once more.

"When she looked past me, what did she see?"

Wilson shot him a surprised look, Vin just nodded slowly.

"Your spirit animal," he answered truthfully.

"Why would House have a spirit animal?" Wilson blurted.

"Because it feels needed. There is no logical reason why one chooses to be with a paranormal. They protect."

House tilted his head a little. "And mine is…?"

"A mink."

Wilson blinked, then smiled a little. House didn't move a muscle. Vin just waited. House simply turned and limped away, aware that he was given a confused look by his lover. As not otherwise expected, Wilson also followed him, catching up to him at the elevator.

 

"House?"

"Lunch," he only decided.

Vin was nowhere in sight and right now, he couldn't care less. The cafeteria was moderately busy. It was still early and since it was a nice and sunny day, House chose an outside table in the shade of a huge tree.

They sat down with their trays. Wilson had chosen a sandwich and chips, House the daily special, which looked like lasagna. Hopefully it also tasted like it.

"How much do you know about this?" House broke the silence.

"About shamanism and spirit animals? Not much, I have to say. Allies never get confronted with spirit guides. It's something unique to the shaman world. And until a few months ago I didn't even know a shaman."

House raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Las Vegas," Wilson only said, not going into detail as to who he had met there.

He didn't get any more probing questions.

"Why?" James asked.

"I'm interested," was all House answered.

"In the mink or everything?"

"I couldn't care less about a mink, Wilson. If this girl can see spirit animals, but isn't a shaman, something happened to her. She sees invisible things and while children her age have them, she can actually see them for real. And touch them."

"Yes, but there is nothing medical science can do about that."

House grimaced. "It's all in her head, literally," he added. "What is interesting is the fact that she only reacts to stimuli from this spirit plane and not the reality around her. Even Tanner, who can see the animals, exists in this world, interacts with people."

Wilson nodded. "We have to wait for the shaman Vin called to help us with that puzzle. Neither can say what is wrong with her, or if it is wrong. Only because neither of us knows about this kind of existence doesn't mean it's not possible that paranormals are solely interacting through the spirit plane."

"It is unheard of," a new voice added and Tanner sat down with them.

House didn't look too happy that Tanner had apparently followed them, but he tolerated the other man.

"What I see as a complication is the fact that while shamans can enter the spirit plane in a kind of meditative state, or dream walking, they are either there or here. There's never this imbalance. Zoe is in both places. Her spirit is somewhere else, but part of it is still here, in this world, able to take care of her physical needs. Shamans can't walk, eat, sleep while they're on the spirit plane. Zoe doesn't need to be fed, carried or clothed. She does it, like a robot, like a puppet."

House chewed on his lasagna. It was surprisingly good. "So that shaman can tell us what's going on?"

"Hopefully. I'll be here till he arrives. I've to be back in Salt Lake in two days, but I'll keep in touch."

Wilson nodded, House simply ignored the statement. His mind was too busy with Zoe Chester and the existence of spirit guides, especially his own. Suddenly the blue eyes were on Vin.

"What is Wilson's?"

Wilson froze in mid-bite. Vin leaned back, smiling a little.

"A serval, Dr. House. And I'll email you a spirit animal guide. Just look them up."

House grinned, eyes sparking with interest. Wilson only sighed.

* * *

Vin had been unable to think of anything but the fact that someone from Japan had appeared here, had claimed he was a demon, of all things, and that Zoe could see his 'true self'. He had called Ezra, informed him of part of the events her in Plainsboro, and from the way the vampire had sounded, something had rung a really big bell in his head as well.

It wasn't even an hour later that Ezra called him back.

"I talked to Farnham," Standish told him. "And to Commander Reed. Both confirmed my suspicions."

Uh-oh, Vin thought.

"Farnham is currently in business deals with a large Japanese company called Shikon Enterprises. Reed met two of their, let's say… executives… a few months ago. He said it was a rather unique meeting, with unique people, and that aside from being very different from the general paranormal, they're also a lot older than even the run-of-the-mill vampire. One is a shaman, the other seems to be more like what you told me about House's visitor. It looks like this Kouga person is connected to them as well."  
Ezra gave him a brief run-down of what Shikon Enterprises was. Vin listened silently, asking no questions.

"So they are Japanese paranormals?" he mused when Ezra was done.

"Apparently. A different breed, too. Nick was stunned by what his senses picked up. Farnham wants to talk to the representatives he's been in contact with."

"Good."

"Vin?"

"Hm?"

"Is everything okay over there?"

Vin smiled. "Yeah. Nothing to worry about. It's a puzzling case and it doesn't help that we have a so-called demon running around, but so far there's no trouble. I want to help this girl, Ezra. If she is a spirit walker, she's too young to handle this kind of power. And if Dee confirms it, we need to know what happened to her. Spirit walking doesn't develop until puberty or much later, when the body and mind are mature enough to go through the extreme shifts of the spirit plane, and defend itself. If Zoe is doing what I think she is, something either forced her or she fled from this place to somewhere she feels safe."

"At the age of three?" Ezra asked quietly.

"I know. Something happened, Ezra, something traumatic, I'm sure of it. I'm just not sure why she stayed where she is now… and why her body is still that healthy and alive if her spirit is so torn apart."

* * *

Detective Dee Latener walked into the lobby of the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital and shuddered a little. He hated hospitals. He had spent way too much time in them in the past years, mostly because of his job as a NYPD cop, and he had had enough poking and prodding. And if it wasn't him in the hospital, it was his partner and lover, or even his brother, with whom he was slowly getting along.

Latener was tall, with raven-black hair and very vibrant green eyes in a sun-tanned face. He was rather slender, but not thin or boy, and dressed in jeans and a dark blue shirt over a white t-shirt. At his side was a similarly slender man, with dark blond hair and almost black eyes, looking curiously around. Like Latener he was wearing leisurely clothes.

Lieutenant Ross Barclay hadn't been thrilled about his youngest sibling going off to Princeton-Plainsboro, especially since he was taking Ryo McLane along, decimating the precinct by two men, but it was just for the weekend. And a Shaman Pair rarely traveled alone.

"Hi," Dee greeted the nurse at the center desk of the lobby. He gave the woman a charming smile and she smiled back. "Dee Latener. And this is Ryo McLane. We have an appointment with Dr. James Wilson."

She gave him directions and the two partners navigated the hallways. Ryo was watching the bustle of nurses, doctors and patients, while Dee just tried not to think of this as a hospital. That Dr. Wilson was the head of oncology didn't help either.

"This isn't about you, Dee," Ryo said calmly. "We're here to help."

"Doesn't change it. I hate hospitals."

"Who doesn't?" a voice commented.

Dee turned, coming face to face with a tall, rather scruffy looking man in jeans and a dark blue t-shirt. He was leaning on a cane, taking the weight off his right leg. He wore a rumpled button down shirt over the tee and he hadn't shaved in a while, as it seemed. Alert, rather intense blue eyes raked over Dee and Ryo, and the shaman felt himself tense involuntarily. His senses came to life unbidden and he nearly gaped as he recognized the stranger as a strong paranormal.

"Uh, Dr. Wilson?" Ryo hazarded a guess.

The other man chuckled. "God beware, no. I don't do cancer kids."

Now that sounded just… bad.

The man simply reached past Dee and pushed open the door. "Wilson!" he yelled. "Company."

Dee glanced into the office and a handsome young man in a white coat rise from behind the massive desk. He had the same dark brown eyes as Ryo had, but he definitely wasn't of Japanese descent. The pronounced cheekbones and the brown hair only added to the attraction. There was an aura of paranormal around him, but it was neither too weak nor really strong.

"I'm Dee Latener," Dee said, still a bit mystified by the paranormal without a name. "This is my partner, Ryo McLane."

"Dr. James Wilson," the man introduced himself and nodded as they slowly entered. "I expected you. Thank you for coming. House?" He looked at the blue eyed man. "Mr. Latener is here to help with Zoe."

And that got Dee the undivided attention of the other man. Those eyes could be an x-ray machine for all they were now penetrating Dee to his very soul. He wasn't sure just what kind of paranormal this man was, but he had the makings of a telepath, without the telepathic abilities.

"Dr. House diagnosed Zoe," Wilson added in ways of an explanation.

So the man was a doctor? Well, he didn't look it.

"You're the shaman?" House wanted to know, eyes sparking with even more interest.

"Uh, yeah."

The blue eyes transferred to Ryo. "And you are?"

"I'm his shield."

House's brows dipped a little. "Is that a fancy term for fuck buddy?"

"House," Wilson groaned, rolling his eyes.

"No," Ryo replied mildly, smiling with amusement. "But the sex is good anyway."

Dee chuckled. While Ryo was a lot more laid back than him, came across as much milder, he had a sharp tongue and he had long since dropped the shy routine. There was strength there, and a lot of determination.

"I bet."

"So, about this little girl," Dee got back to the matter at hand. "Vin told me she can see into the spirit plane, which makes her talented but not paranormal. You seem to think she is, though."

"She is," House confirmed.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I sensed it."

Ryo frowned a little. "Healer?" he guessed.

"Diagnostic," Wilson supplied when House grimaced.

Ryo's brows traveled up.

"Yes, yes, stare at the novelty," House snarked. "Can we get back to Zoe Chester?"

"She's just turned ten," Wilson explained. "It's awfully young for any kind of abilities or talent to manifest, but she seems to be a special kind of girl. She was diagnosed as autistic, but her symptoms are off. It's not any kind of autism the school books have ever seen."

"Vin believes she's seeing spirit animals, which is what she plays with," Dee said. "That implies she can at least partially touch the spirit world. I doubt she can enter the spirit plane as such. She's too young, never had guidance, and she wouldn't still be here if she could."

House drummed his fingers on his cane. "Why not?"

"Because the spirit plane is a rather dangerous place. It appears limitless, is total chaos to the untrained mind, and each traveler can lose himself in it. Think of it as several dimensions meshed together, all interweaving, filled with power. It conforms to the mind of the traveler and since each person is different, the spirit plane is ever-changing. We shamans use it to commune with each other. It's also the place and home of the spirit animals."

"The things that Zoe sees?"

"They are not things, Dr. House. They are animals as you can find them here in this existence as well. Each shaman has a spirit guide, and many paranormals have them, too."

Dee wondered if he should mention the mink curled up close to a serval in one corner of the office. It was quite clear as to what animal belonged to whom, and the way the serval was tongue-washing the mink it was also clear who protected whom. He smiled secretly.

"So if she can see and play with them… does she touch them for real?" Wilson asked.

"For the spirit walker, the animals are real to the touch. I can touch mine and feel it warm and alive next to me," Dee explained. "Can I see the kid?"

Wilson nodded. "I cleared it with the mother. Your cover is Dr. Dee Latener, specialist from New York."

Dee grinned irreverently. "Cool," he only said.

*

It was one of Ryo's many talents that he could calm down even the most ferociously protective female by just being himself. It wasn't an ability of the Shield, it was just Ryo. While his partner talked to Zoe's mother, smiling and exuding warmth and caring, Dee was looking at the child in question with his shaman eyes.

One thing was clear right away: House had been right. She was a paranormal. Dee didn't go any deeper into what exactly because the second condition was much more interesting – her ability to touch the spirit plane. Zoe Chester sat on the chair, gazing ahead, apparently staring at the wall. When Dee entered, accompanied by Wilson, the girl's eyes strayed past Dee and fell on something at his side. Dee knew what it was and it immediately told him she could see the proud deer that was his spirit animal.

Zoe tilted her head, then a slow smile spread over her otherwise expressionless face. She held out one hand and the deer walked over to her. She petted its nose and Dee was fascinated by how gentle the interaction was.

Suddenly she looked at Wilson, ever-so-briefly, but it was a real eye contact. Wilson didn't say anything, just held the huge, green eyes, then Zoe was concentrating on the deer. The serval had approached her as well, sitting next to her knees, watching the girl attentively.  
Interesting.

"Hello," Dee greeted her.

No reaction. It was as if he didn't exist. Only the animals did. It was strange and in any other person Dee would have suspected her to be lost on the spirit plane, but she was still interacting in this world, too. That didn't fit a consciousness trapped in another plane.

"I'm Dee," he continued. "He likes you."

No reaction again. The deer flicked one ear, snuffling at the girl's hand. She smiled more, but she didn't giggle or laugh. No sound left her lips.

"Dr. Wilson?"

"Yes?"

"Would you come closer, please?"

Wilson looked a bit mystified, but he followed the request. Again Zoe looked at him, those eyes older than her ten years. Still, she didn't smile.

Dee let his powers rise a little, let them touch the girl, and while he expected her to react to that, she didn't. So he scanned her, right down to the very core of her aura. He let his senses brush over hers, tried to rouse her into doing anything at all, but he didn't get a blip.

"Empath," he murmured almost to himself.

Wilson frowned. "What?"

"You… and her… you're both empaths."

The oncologist blinked. "But… she's so young!"

"She's too young to be a spirit walker, too," the shaman added, still checking her. "But she is. She is a paranormal and she is a spirit walker." He tilted his head. "She recognizes the fellow empath in you. Can you feel her?"

Wilson's frown deepened. "I could sense she was different, but not what was different about her. I can't classify fellow paranormals."

Dee pulled and back and turned to the other man, smiling briefly. "Too bad. Do you have a private room somewhere? A place where I won't get any interruptions for a while?"

"You can use my office. You can lock it," Wilson offered.

"Great."

"What for?"

"I want to go onto the spirit plane."

Brown eyes reflected understanding. Dee knew Wilson had been an ally, came from an ally family, and like Ryo he was deeply involved in the paranormal. He probably knew more about these things than most paranormals did. Like Ryo, he had been thrown from ally to paranormal, though Ryo refused to see himself as anything but an ally. He was Dee's Shield, part of the Shaman Pair, and while he wasn't a paranormal in the true sense, he couldn't be an ally any longer. Barclay had taken over as their primary 'caretaker' as Dee always teased.

As they left Zoe with her invisible friends, House joined them. He had been outside, simply watching, and the alert blue eyes reflected growing interest.

"She's an empath?" he asked.

Dee nodded. "That and a spirit walker. For some reason, she only reacts to the animals and to Dr. Wilson because he's an empath, too, but he doesn't hold her interest."

"Lost your boyish charm, huh?" House commented.

Wilson grimaced. "She's ten, House."

"Women love him," House stage-whispered.

Dee chuckled to himself. They arrived at the oncologist's office and Dee chose a comfortable spot on the couch.

"You can stay if you want, but it won't be very riveting."

House's expression of intense interest didn't change. He simply sat down on a chair and Dee smiled.

"Knock yourself out."

Wilson sighed and shook his head. "I need to talk to the parents. Zoe's father is still my patient."

House waved his hand. "We'll be fine, Jimmy."

Dee confirmed that with a reassuring smile toward the empathy. He wondered how much the man picked up from strangers. Dee had yet to meet an empath, but the information he had from Tanner was that Wilson was low level. His chosen profession in oncology had him in close vicinity to dying people and grieving relatives. If he was very receptive to all kinds of emotions it would drive him insane. So, looking at how balanced and normal Wilson looked, it had to be either a very low reception, maybe even exclusive, or he had really good shields.

Ryo settled in the second chair, shooting Dee a silent confirmation. He would shield his lover from harm should something hostile try to attack Dee. The shaman-warlock was quite well-versed by now, but he was also a very tasty morsel for the not so friendly presences out there.

Dee closed his eyes and easily stepped onto the spirit plane, starting his search.

*

House watched as the dark-haired man closed those vividly green eyes, his body relaxing into a comfortable position. Latener didn't fall into any kind of meditative stance, but the Diagnostic in House registered the shift of energies. It was quite pronounced. While House couldn't really get a Diagnostic grip on Latener, he could tell he was a strong paranormal. He registered differently than Zoe, but he had been as suddenly present as the little girl. No getting used to the man, no slow diagnostic procedure as it normally worked.

It was interesting how strong paranormals simply registered with House while anyone else was just… physically there, but not paranormally.

So he kept his reawakened senses on Dee Latener, fascinated, interested, and very alert.

* * *

The girl sat in what looked like an expansive field of flowers and grass. It wasn't unusual for the spirit plane to form around the mind of a long-time user and visitor to the likeness of what this person wanted it to look like. Normally it was a nothingness, with all kinds of colors, like a barren landscape that waited for life. Dee had never stayed long, just for training purposes or to talk to others, who didn't know him and who he didn't know. Being part of a Shaman Pair made him a rare shaman, and that he was a shaman-warlock set him apart, too. He didn't care about any of the two, just that he could control his powers and had no trouble with them or shields.

There were animals around Zoe Chester. Dee saw a squirrel, a mink, a cat that was larger than a house cat but not as large as a leopard or jaguar. There were also birds and butterflies, even an alligator that bathed in the sun. It looked huge and old and ferocious, but appeared tame next to the girl. Somewhere further away lay a huge, brown lump that had to be a bear.

The deer that represented Dee flicked its ears, simply standing there, watching. Suddenly the shaggy lump moved and Dee looked into the broad face of a bear. A huge grizzly, to be precise. It gazed at him, not moving a muscle, and Dee stayed perfectly still, aware that the spirit animal was scanning him. His own spirit animal, while prey to a bear in the wild of the real world, showed no fear.

Finally the bear's head dropped once more onto the massive paws.

Dee flicked an ear again.

Interesting.

* * *

Nothing much happened on the outside. Latener was meditating or even sleeping. There were no sparkles, no lights, no weird stuff happening. House sat in a chair, watching. Sharp blue eyes were in the motionless man and while the human being saw nothing, the Diagnostic was slowly twitching. Like with Kouga, Latener registered quite strongly, though he appeared shielded. House was only aware of him because of the proximity and the length of time he was 'exposed' to him.

McLane had taken to reading a magazine. He appeared relaxed, but House could tell he was tense.

"So what's your job?" he asked, breaking the silence.

McLane looked up, slightly startled. Like Wilson he had incredibly dark brown eyes, which clashed with his fair hair. There was a slight almond shape to the eyes, something that didn't register with anyone unless one studied McLane closely. It was a very faint hint to his ancestry, if it was at all.

"I keep an eye on him," Ryo answered.

"You're no paranormal," House remarked.

"No."

"But you and him…?"

McLane smiled. "We are like you and Dr. Wilson."

"I thought you said you aren't a paranormal," House shot back.

That got him a chuckle. "I'm not. But Dee and I have been together for three years now. We live together, we work together…"

"… have sex together," House sang.

"And that, too."

"Good sex?"

Ryo smirked, but he didn't comment. House grinned widely.

"So you're the bed bunny, the partner and you keep a non-paranormal eye on him. What's a Shaman Pair?"

Ryo let the magazine sink into his lap. "Do you have a coffee? Because this will take a while."

House grabbed the phone and punched in a number. "Wilson? You busy? … Leave it… Get three coffees and come over. McLane is in a story-telling mood."

Ryo just smiled a little as House hung up.

* * *

"She's in the spirit world. At least part of her."

Wilson stared at Dee in confusion. "How?"

"I don't know. Normally I'd say she got lost, but for someone who's lost in the spirit plane she looks quite… at home. How long did you say she's been like this?"

"Since she was three or four. She's ten right now. Six years in the spirit world? That's… whoa!"

Dee shared his stunned surprise.

"Yes."

"I mean… she's a child! A spirit walker, sure, but a child."

"I know, doc, I know. I'm not sure there's a book about things like that, but if there is, it's not in there." The shaman warlock shook his head. "This is so weird and so strange… She's there and she's protected by one huge spirit animal, a bear. And the other spirit animals surround her like they are her play pen friends. She's not a lost soul. She belongs."

Wilson thoughtfully chewed his lips. "What can we do?" he asked after a moment.

"We? Nothing. This is big. Even I can't just walk up to her and guide her back," Dee confessed. "It's beyond me. It would need a shaman trained in that regard. Can't say I know one."

So they had the diagnosis, but the cure was problematic at best, completely impossible at worst.

* * *

It was already dark outside and the lights in most of the offices and exam rooms were out or dimmed. Past eight p.m. saw little activity on most floors, aside from the ICU and the emergency services. The clinic had been closed four hours ago and everyone was already home.  
Kagome wasn't surprised to find House still in his office. Cameron and Foreman had left an hour earlier, but she had feigned more work she wanted to finish, avoiding an invitation for a drink or two with Cameron. While she liked the other woman, she preferred not to spend all her time with her.

House had his feet on his desk, gazing at the ceiling, his cane twirling. He glanced at her as she entered the almost dark office.

"Hogging overtime?"

"No. Actually I was waiting for the others to leave to talk to you."

"Too late to suck up, Higurashi. You're also not my type for an office tryst."

She smiled. "And I'm married. Thank god we cleared that up right away."

House smirked. "So what do you want? Pay raise?"

"Zoe Chester."

"She's not for sale."

Kagome shook her head, ignoring the wit and sarcasm. She knew it as what it was, and she had had worse.

"I know someone who might be able to help, really help."

House tilted his head a little.

"He's a good friend and he knows the spirit plane inside out. I know the girl is a spirit walker. Kouga talked to Mr. Latener in private."

"And told him his wolf demon story."

"No. Shamans can see certain things. There's not always an explanation required. It's also a matter of instinctual trust. Mr. Latener can't help Zoe because he doesn't know the spirit plane."

"Your friend does?"

"Yes. He's… old."

"Like your husband?"

Kagome nodded. House looked intrigued.

"What else on him is like your husband?"

"Nothing. Miroku is human."

"And a shaman?"

"Of sorts. He studied all kinds of spiritual powers."

House dropped his feet from the desk and rose slowly. "Why should I trust him?"

"He wouldn't hurt the girl!"

Kagome felt outrage rise. Miroku, while powerful and a warrior in his own right, was one of the most gentle people she knew. People had always tended to trust him instinctually, especially children.

"I never implied so. That is your interpretation of my words," House pointed out, smirking.

Kagome's temper flared briefly, eyes flashing, then she huffed.

"Can he heal her?" House wanted to know.

"That you'd have to ask him. It's a chance, Dr. House. Neither Mr. Tanner nor Mr. Latener were able to talk to her. Maybe it's the only chance."

"Oh well, it's a party already. Call your friend. Hope the hubby's not getting jealous." More smirking.

Kagome drew her brows down, but she didn't really glare all too much. The months with House had taught her one thing: you didn't need to be a half demon, a hanyou, and called Inuyasha to be a Neanderthal and bastard. While Inuyasha had grown up quickly and learned to be more… civilized, House was a long way from being so. With Wilson he had a catalyst and buffer, but on his own he was sharp-tongued, cranky, egotistical, misanthropic on a good day and antisocial on his better ones. Inuyasha had had bad manners; House was a bad manner all on his own.

Without another word she left, brushing past Cameron and Foreman. Cameron shot her a bewildered, slightly worried look, and Kagome rolled her eyes – not that Cameron could see it since she was looking at Kagome's back. She didn't need anyone to protect her from or defend her to House. She had the necessary experience in form of Feudal Japan and some thick-headed demons or half demons, thank you very much. Nothing could prepare you for life more than that. She had prevailed against Naraku himself and come out alive.

House didn't scare her at all. Nor could he really put her down or aggravate her very much.

Kagome smiled. She would have to thank Inuyasha for that the next time she saw him.

* * *

It was late when House entered their home and limped into the huge living room, alert eyes scanning for his lover. Wilson was asleep on the couch, the TV running, and House had to smile as he discovered his lover. Wilson looked peaceful and like he really needed the rest, but House couldn't let him spend the night here. He would wake up all knotted and cranky.

"Jimmy," he called, poking Wilson with his cane into the thigh.

There was a mumble and with the second poke, dark eyes cracked open. Wilson blinked, rubbing grit out of them, then sat up.

"You're home," he mumbled.

"Your powers of observation stun me every time."

Wilson yawned and removed some sheets of paper he had accidentally squashed between himself and the couch.

"Reading?" House asked as he switched off the TV.

"Tanner had someone email me the book he talked about."

House's attention was suddenly on the paper. "Spirit animals?"

"Yep." Wilson massaged his neck as he got up. "Wanna read?"

"Any good?"

"It's… interesting."

House limped ahead to the bedroom without a word and Wilson simply followed, turning off the lights as he left the living room.

"Spill," House demanded.

"Well… I think the mink fits."

"I'm not into pelt or furs."

House was already changing out of his clothes and into his t-shirt top and pajama bottoms. Wilson smiled and held out a sheet of computer print paper.

"Just read it," he offered and disappeared into the bathroom.

House sat down on the bed and frowned as he scanned over the brief description of what the mink stood for as a spirit animal.

Stealth, cunning, ingenuity, revenge, keen observation, ability to see hidden reasons behind things, power of observation.

Huh. Figure that. A little white furry thing that people kept as a pet or for pelts…

"Revenge?" he yelled.

Wilson stuck his head out of the bathroom, smiling. "Dead on."

"I'm not vengeful!" he protested.

"Uh-huh."

House balled up the paper and chugged it at Wilson, who disappeared back into the bathroom to finish. House took the print-out about the serval and his brows rose a little.

Stealth, invisibility, use of facial features as communication, ability to see over one’s environment, inter-species communication, listens to what is hidden.

So cool.

Wilson to a T.

The bathroom door opened once more and his lover came back, already changed and House took the opportunity to steal a kiss before he took up the bathroom himself.

* * *

"Higurashi made an offer," House said as he made himself comfortable on the bed.

Wilson raised an eyebrow. "Do I have to be worried?"

"About a pretty, hot, young thing that works for me? Nah…" House waggled his eyebrows. "She's just my plaything for the day. Passes an hour or two. She's like Chase in that regard."

Wilson gave him an amused smile. "Nothing to worry about, I see."

"She hardly holds my interest."

"Huh. Right. So, what offer did she make?"

"A steamy threesome in exam room two. And before you ask, you aren't invited."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Lord, give me patience."

"Stamina might be a start, too."

It got House the Look.

"She offered to call a friend of hers."

"For the threesome?"

"Jimmy, you really have a mind like a gutter," House chastised, grinning. "Are you into threesomes?"

"You, your ego and me? Already have it."

"Very hot," House murmured seductively.

Wilson yawned, grinning at the grimace on his lover's face. "Spill," he only said.

So House told him about Kagome's shaman-or-whatever friend, the help he might give, and Wilson listened attentively. In the end he shrugged.

"Might be helpful."

"The more the merrier?"

"You're not getting any further with treating Zoe. Neither are Dee or Vin. We might never find a way to help her, but we should consider it."

House was silent after that, mulling it over. His agile mind was going through everything he knew, his own observations, what Latener and Tanner had told them. In the end he reached over to the night stand and picked up the print-out about spirit animals. Wilson looked tired and sleepy, and House just continued to read over the rest of the slightly rumpled prints. Spirit animals were interesting, he mused. Shamanism, too.

"What's the bear stand for?" he asked after a while.

"Hm?" Wilson mumbled.

"The bear. Zoe's pet."

"'S not a pet. 'S protection."

"Whatever."

"House, it's a bear. It's not complicated."

Wilson buried deeper into his pillow, curled up close to the taller man. House looked down at the chestnut head, reaching over to run a tender caress through the unruly strands. Wilson made a noise of content.

Yeah, a bear. Not so hard. But in shamanism, spirit animals had more meaning than their surface appearance might suggest. He would talk to Tanner. The guy was a spiritwalker. He had to know.

As House watched his lover, he let his senses rise, let the Diagnostic come to the forefront. It wasn't as hard to fall back into the old pattern as he had believed it would be. He had been 'neutered' for so many years, the abilities had come back so slowly, he would have thought it might be difficult to work with them, but it wasn't. He had told Wilson that he had been his first test subject, but it wasn't like he had chosen his lover. The Diagnostic had flared to life and told House all he wanted to about James' health.  
Ever since then he had gotten a handle on matters, on his senses, and a kind of nostalgia had settled in. This was what it had been like before the infarction. And it felt good. So terribly, terribly good. He didn't want to confess to it, confess to loving the paranormal side, welcoming it back.

House looked at the sleeping man next to him. The energy lines in his body were calm and balanced. There were tiny distortions around the scars, but the ones on his back had almost healed and the cluster at the neck wasn't dangerous. It was just a sign that the body, even after almost two years since the incident, hadn't completely adjusted to the violent tearing of skin, muscle and ligaments.

A Diagnostic couldn't use his powers on himself, but House knew what he would look like. Several great distortions. One at the neck where the bullet had gone through, one in the abdomen where the second bullet had struck, and his leg would probably look like a major construction site with detour signs. Sunkeeper had done what was possible, but even a healer couldn't reverse all the damage done. The pain was gone, the scar was still there, and the muscle was still missing.

He could live with that.

House's gaze still rested on his lover and he felt a tender smile tug at his lips. He saw every pulse of life, every heartbeat, ever shift of life energy. He could see the dominant and rather strongly registering empathic senses, and he mused about how they had developed. Despite Wilson's protests, House believed that the other man was still developing what he had inherited. It was growing, and the Diagnostic watched it with interest. Like he watched the fine connections to himself in Wilson. It had been and still was thrilling and awe-inspiring to discover those connections, to find out what they stood for. Tiny pools of energy that were fed by and fed House in return.

Connected.

Scary.

Nice.

So good.

Dependent… but only in a paranormal way.

It should make him angry, but it didn't. It was his secret, his knowledge, and while Wilson felt the connection and needed it, he wasn't aware of the deeper meaning.

Mine, House thought. And his.

So scarily good.

He lay down and reached out, running a feather light caress over Wilson's skin.

Belonging like this wasn't scary any more.

* * *

Dee had spent the best part of the day calling people and getting calls in return. Most of the time was spent talking to Ross Barclay, his brother, his ally, and lieutenant. In the past months their relationship had slowly changed from barely tolerated to friendly to almost brotherly. Barclay nearly dying twice had helped with that, but there was also the Ryo factor. His lover had been nothing but tenacious, right down to being a pain in the ass, about fostering the newly discovered relationship between the two not so very different men. Dee had come to trust Barclay as an ally, and finally he had, albeit very slowly, accepted that the older man wasn't after his lover any longer.

Barclay had called people in turn, mystified by what Dee had told him, but there had been no real help. No one had ever heard of a child trapped in the spirit plane and surviving for so long. She was physically healthy, but her mind was rarely in her body.

"Sorry, Dee," Barclay said when he called him again in the late afternoon. "No luck. No one I know can help and whoever else they called, no one had even an idea."

Dee sighed and sank back into the couch. He had camped out in Wilson's office and the oncologist had dropped by now and then. Ryo was alternating between Zoe, the parents and wherever else he was going. Dee wasn't worried about any attractive nurses. Both men might look, and Dee was looking quite a bit, but he was faithful to his lover, and he trusted Ryo. Not that Shaman Pairs lusted after other people, male or female. Their unique connection took care of that. Neither partner would ever stray, and it made Dee aware of how special they were. They had loved each other before the bond had been discovered, and Latener didn't want to think of the one Pair he had heard about. They couldn't stand each other and had no chance to ever have another partner beside the one they were bonded to. That sucked big time.

"Thanks," he muttered. "Damn." He massaged the back of his neck with one hand as he stared at the ceiling. It held no answers. Double-damn.

"What about you?" his brother asked.

"What about me?"

"Could you guide her back?"

"Hell no! I don't even know how she can survive like this. She's protected by one very fierce spirit animal and it's guarding her all right. This isn't search and rescue. This is a rather difficult operation and if I go about it wrong…"

He didn't want to think about. He might lose Zoe, he might lose himself, they might both get lost…

"I understand," was the soft reply. "Take care, Dee. Say hi to Ryo."

"I will. See ya."

He hung up and let his head drop against the back of the couch. "Fuck," he muttered.

A soft knock had him open his eyes and he gave the young woman entering the office a wan smile.

"Hey. You're Kagome, right?"

It was a good guess since Dee hadn't seen many young Japanese women hanging around Diagnostics.

She nodded. "I talked to your partner. Ryo. He said you're here. Did you have any luck?"

"Nope."

Dee studied her, smiling his most charming smile. As Japanese she had probably spent a lot of time talking with Ryo about his parents. His lover was of Japanese descent, though except for the almost black eyes there was hardly any trace of his mother's side left. He was fair haired and his facial features were as Caucasian as they could be. Freaky genetics.

"I already told Ryo, and he said to tell you… I know someone who might be able to help."

Dee sat up straighter. "Who?"

"He's an old friend. He does work that can be compared to what you call shamans."

Dee frowned. He was a shaman himself, a shaman-warlock, and at the words he carefully reached out with his senses, checking the young woman. It was that moment that someone else entered. His extended senses got side-tracked and ran smack into something the young shaman had never sensed before.

"Holy shit!" Dee exclaimed and jumped up, staring at the man.

"Uh, hi," the newcomer said.

Pointed ears, a wolf's tail, and blue eyes with a slit pupil… Dee couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Mr. Latener, my husband, Kouga," Kagome said calmly. "I take it you see him as he is."

"You can say that again!"

Kouga closed the door. "You're a shaman. Part of a Pair. We heard about you and your partner. And we might be able to help."

Kouga wasn't one for beating around the bush, it seemed.

Dee reached for his lover, alerting him to Dee's need for him to come. Their minds connected briefly and then Ryo was on his way.

"Your wife already said something like it," the New York detective said slowly.

"We'll wait for Ryo, and then I think we need to talk."

Dee didn't ask how Kouga knew that his shield was coming; he just nodded.

* * *

House didn't know what he had expected this 'last great chance for Zoe' to look like. Maybe some old guy, bent over with age, holding on to a gnarled walking stick, with a beard that needed a few loops to keep it from dragging on the ground. Or some shamanistic whatchamaycallit. Someone in a flowing robe with long hair and a holy aura, reciting sutras or something like that. Not that House could see auras. What he definitely hadn’t expected was what was standing in his office.

The man smiling a greeting at him, and who he gave a wordless grunt back, was young. Maybe in his mid to late twenties. Black hair, strangely blue-something eyes that seemed to have a touch of violet to them, and one hand gloved. It was the most outstanding feature on him. Not the handsome, smooth face. Not the slender body in dark pants, white shirt and a black jacket. No, it was the fingerless glove that encased one hand. The right hand. A simple, black glove.

"Miroku Takayama," he introduced himself in a soft tenor.

"Do I need to bow?" House asked.

Miroku gave him a mildly amused smile. "No."

"Good. Stiff back and all. Not as spry as I used to be."

The smile stayed, maybe even grew in amusement.

"So you're the wonder guy who can do what even a shaman-warlock can't?" House challenged.

"I wouldn't say that, Dr. House. Kagome called and told me about the patient you have, about what has already happened. I'm very well acquainted with the spirit plane, but even I know there are limits for what someone can do. I'd like to see Zoe first, then we can talk about what I can do to help – if at all."

House frowned, the fingers of one hand drumming onto the cane head. Finally he rose, pushing himself to his feet with the help of the cane. He limped past Miroku and when the newcomer didn't follow, he shot him an impatient look.

"You want to get to know your patient or not?" he asked gruffly.

Miroku followed unhurried, keeping pace with him.

"What's with the hand," House asked abruptly as they walked through the corridors.

Miroku glanced at the limb in question. "Old injury."

House frowned.

"You might want to call it a curse," Miroku added with a fine, but sad smile. "An old scar."

House knew about old scars, but something about this guy struck him as odd. Odd was interesting; Miroku was interesting.

"It's not impairing your movement," House noted.

The fingers wriggled just fine and he had grasped the door handle with normal strength and pulled without a problem.

"No."

And that was Miroku was willing to add to that.

Zoe was still in the same treatment room and Vin was still with her. Wilson was nowhere in sight, probably off to hold hands with a cancer chick, House thought. The two New York cops were quietly talking with each other. When Miroku approached, Latener turned his head and those green eyes narrowed. House didn't know what he saw, but from the sudden tension running through the man's body, he was on high alert. Miroku stopped, his eyes meeting Latener's, then he inclined his head. It was a greeting and while Latener returned it, the tension didn't ebb. It also didn't increase.

McLane was suddenly very close to his partner, the dark eyes highly alert, and the same tension radiated through his body. House was very, very intrigued by the silent power play. He wouldn't bet on either man, but if pressed to make a bet, his money was on their newcomer.

Interesting, House mused silently.

"Whoa," Latener murmured. "Now there's something."

Miroku gave him a little smirk. "Thank you, I think. You are Dee Latener, of the Shaman Pair." His eyes moved to Ryo. "Ryo McLane, I presume?"

"How do you know about us?" Dee asked suspiciously.

House wasn't sure and he didn't trust his paranormal senses when it came to these guys, but there was a certain crackle in the air, a fine mist of electricity.

"I talked to Kagome. She gave me a pretty good idea of who I would meet. I only ran into a Shaman Pair once. It was an interesting conversation."

Dee huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "So?"

The tension was ebbing more with the gesture. Latener had apparently chosen not to engage in battle, which was good because House wanted this hospital to remain standing, and the crossed arms signaled that. No free hands to strike out to throw around magic fire balls. McLane was still at his partner's side, but he looked more relaxed, too.

"I'd like to know what you saw on the spirit plane. I need to understand what I will get into."

House remained a watcher as the two powerful magic-users started to talk. It was a civil conversation, both men slowly warming up to each other. Since both were powerful, it was like two alpha males meeting, but not about to fight over pack rules. They had silently established their limits and boundaries, and now it was time for business.

"That him?" a quiet voice almost startled him.

House glanced over his shoulder at his lover. Wilson gave him a brief smile.

"Yeah. The great voodoo master."

"He's a shaman, House, and it's not voodoo."

"Whatever. He can do his mojo magic if he wants to."

He turned and limped away, aware that Wilson was following. Zoe was no longer his case. Her 'illness' had been diagnosed and she was no longer interesting. Like so many people once he knew what was bugging them. Part of him wanted to know how it all panned out, but another part didn't care. This was a paranormal matter now and he would get the results relayed to him by Wilson, most likely.

They ended up in Diagnostics where Wilson shared a coffee with him while House's team trickled in from their various jobs. Cameron brought up the latest conquest from the depth of the hospital, a new case that Cuddy had pushed into her hands. Wilson stayed for the prelim until he was beeped, and House immersed himself in his latest battle against boredom.

* * *

"I can't help her immediately," Miroku told the assembled doctors, shaman pair and allies.

House was in the background, leaning against the wall, cane resting loosely at his side. Wilson had joined him, shoulders not quite touching, but he was very close. They were in one of the empty meeting rooms on the third floor, out of the way of normal foot traffic and no one would actually look for any of them here.

"She has been in the spirit world for too long to just leave. She is also quite heavily guarded and it will take time to have the spirit guide trust me enough to address her directly. So far, communication goes through him."

"The bear."

Miroku nodded at Vin. "Yes. He is very powerful. I don't want to fight him, nor do I want to risk any kind of confrontation."

House frowned. "That's your great diagnosis? She's in the spirit world and you're too cowardly to get her out?"

Wilson shot him the Look, coupled with a warning and a good dose of exasperation. Miroku just smiled.

"This needs time, Dr. House. A lot of time and patience. I already talked to the mother and she understands that to help her daughter, we need to work with her." He looked at Wilson. "How far has the husband's cancer progressed?"

"Stage IV. There's no remission and while no one has given up hope, I doubt he will come back from this." Wilson's expression was grave. "Six months, maybe a little more, but he is terminal."

Miroku nodded, looking serious. "We can't let the mother know what Zoe is and what happened, where she is. To treat her, to hopefully lead her back into this world without destroying there mind, we have to fabricate an elaborate story. Part of this story is her medical history and what we can do for her. I told her mother that there is a place in San Francisco that deals and treats with this rare disease her daughter has. There are only a few cases known in the US and some more world wide. We would do what we can, but we can't make promises. Since it is experimental, there would be no health care costs. It's all run by a fund."

House grinned wryly. "Good story."

Miroku smirked. "It's a cover as good as we can make it."

"If you need help," Vin spoke up, "let me know. The Nexus can assist."

Miroku inclined his head. "Thank you, Vin."

House pushed away from the wall, limping toward the door. At their curious looks he just frowned.

"You do your mojo, I do mine. People don't treat themselves at the clinic. I wish they would, though," he added with a grumble.

Wilson followed him, a mild frown on his features.

"Don't," House only said as he pushed at the elevator call button.

"I'm not."

"You are. I can feel those little feelers poking at me."

"House, I'm not scanning you!" Wilson protested.

"You are. Maybe no consciously, but you are."

The other man looked slightly disturbed. House smirked to himself. Let Wilson chew on whether or not House could literally feel his empathic senses or was just very knowledgeable of him. It was the latter, but Wilson didn't know.

"We asked for their help," the oncologist said instead.

"I said don't!" House snapped. "And I didn't ask. I humored Higurashi."

Wilson was silent throughout the elevator ride. They weren't going down to the clinic. Actually, they went up one level and House made for his office, then veered off and aimed for Wilson's instead. Wilson just followed, a curious expression in his eyes.

"Safer," his lover muttered as he sat down on his couch and elevated his leg.

No glass walls, Wilson translated for himself. House was looking for a moment of solitude.

"Want me to leave?" he asked matter-of-factly.

"Would you?"

"No."

"No point in asking then," House only said.

Wilson locked the door, then took a seat in his chair behind the desk. He pushed it back far enough to put his feet up onto a corner, hands clasped over his stomach. House just watched him.

"So?"

"So?" Wilson echoed.

"What's for dinner tonight?"

It got him a lazy smile. "I'm not cooking."

"Then why do I keep your around?" House grumbled.

"Sexual gratification?"

"Your only benefit is that you're cheaper than a hooker."

"Man's got to have one," was the philosophical answer.

House twirled the cane, then set it down on the floor with a loud thump.

"You don't like him," Wilson commented.

"I don't like anyone."

"Liar."

"I dislike a lot of people," House corrected himself.

"Better. And you dislike Miroku."

"For some miracle worker he's as stumped as the rest of them," House criticized.

"He's not a miracle worker, he's a shaman. Of sorts, I think." Wilson gave him a close look. "What do you dislike about him?"

"In comparison to who? Higurashi's toy?"

"Kouga," Wilson supplied.

"He can call himself Santa Clause for all I care."

"Miroku?" his lover prompted.

House dropped his head back, staring at the ceiling. Finally he met the calm brown eyes of  
the oncologist.

"Kouga just reads… weird," he explained. "Probably that demony thingy he has going. Miroku… it's his right hand."

"What about it?"

House frowned. "You saw it. He's wearing a glove."

"He could have piercings we don't know about, too," Wilson shot back.

"He hasn't. No distortions," House told him with a smirk. "He's a shaman, like Latener, and he reads strongly, like Latener, but he's also a lot older. And the hand… it's like a… hole, for a better word. A hole where energy disappears inside."

Wilson frowned. "Could be a shamanic thing."

"Uh-huh."

"You're just pissed that he didn't give you an answer," his lover pointed out at the non-committal reply. "Not every illness has an immediate cure. Some have none at all. Too many, actually."

"I'm doctor, doctor. I know that. But the girl's not sick."

"Paranormally spoken she is. Something traumatized her at the age of four and since then she has fled to the spirit plane. There's nothing anyone can do for now. It's without precedence. Like many new bugs you have to study it. Why are you so worked up over a little girl, House?" Wilson asked curiously.

"I'm not. I just don't like losing."

"You haven't lost. It's not even a set-back. It's… a slow process. You diagnose, others treat. It's as always."

House studied the head of the cane, then pushed to his feet. "Italian," he declared.

Wilson hadn't moved. Brown eyes met blue ones. "You're buying," he said.

House smirked. "In your dreams."

"No, in my dreams you're naked and at my mercy."

House blinked once, clearly surprised by the statement, then smiled. "I'll see your dream and raise you by my fantasy."

Wilson finally got up from his chair. "Which would be?"

"I'll show you tonight," House promised in a low, seductive voice.

"If it's you snoring on the couch, no thanks."

"I'm talking about my favorite fantasy."

"Angelina Jolie and Carmen Electra?"

"James Wilson, naked except for a tie, at my mercy, and very, very willing."

Wilson stepped right up into House's personal space, eyes fixed on the unshaven face, then he wrapped a possessive hand around the taller man's neck and pressed their lips together. It was a sloppy, forceful and hungry kiss that left them both slightly dizzy, and House immediately hooked the fingers of his free hand into the waist band of his lover.

"Forget tonight," he muttered. Now's good."

"Now's the office," was the equally soft and muttered reply.

"Screw the office!"

"We have rules, Greg. I'm not having sex in the office. Or any other room, storage cabinet or hallways in this place – or outside."

"Spoil sport."

"Italian," Wilson only said, smiling, nipping at House's lips once more. "Then we'll talk about your fantasy."

"Not much talking there," House said, enjoying the close contact and the kisses very much. "But I do like to hear you beg."

Wilson shivered a little and forcefully removed himself from the overpowering proximity. He breathed in deeply, chuckling a little.

"Damn."

"Not there yet," House sang and limped toward the door, unlocking it. "But after tonight…?"  
And then he was out the door.

Wilson remained a minute longer, trying to get some composure back, then followed. Tonight would be very interesting.

* * *

Miroku had detached himself from the throng of paranormals, patients and allies. He needed some space to think and he did his best thinking when he was alone. The meeting with Zoe in the spirit world had unsettled him. In all his lifetime, a very long lifetime, he had never seen or heard of something like this. A child who had fled into a dangerous and almost limitless realm, able to function in the real world, too. Zoe might be retarded when it came to her physical and mental development, still on the level of a four-year-old, but her spiritual development was fantastic.

Miroku didn't know if they would ever be able to completely separate her spirit from the spirit plane, but he could try to enable her to act in both realms, to accept reality once more.

If she was willing, that was. Nobody had dared to ask the most important questions of all: why? Why had little Zoe fled the world of the living and hidden herself on the spirit plane? Why were the spirit guides guarding her so fiercely? What had happened to a three-year-old little girl?

And even if she would be able to return, would she ever want to?

"There you are."

He looked up from his shaded place under a tall tree and gave Kouga a smile.

"Uh, don't tell me," the wolf demon said sheepishly, "you were meditating and stuff?"

"Not really, no. I needed a quiet place to think."

"Sorry."

"No problem. I'm not sure I'm getting anywhere with my thinking."

"Zoe?"

"Among other things."

Kouga settled down across from him, frowning. "Spill," he only said.

"You met Dr. Wilson?"

The wolf chuckled. "Yeah. And Dr. House. Especially Dr. House. But Kagome says he's a genius, even without being a Diagnostic."

"True. But I noticed Dr. Wilson more. He's an empath."

"Low level, he says."

"He's progressive, Kouga."

Kouga frowned.

"He's developing, becoming stronger," Miroku explained. "Not steadily, but in small bursts. He's very strong in regards to House. He picks up his slightest mood changes, and that's not just knowing the man for a very long time. He's receptive."

"Because House anchors him."

"That might have been the beginning, but not the sole reason. I think his powers are changing, becoming stronger, and he is actively trying to manage them, which accounts for some of the progress."

Kouga shrugged. "So?"

Miroku smiled. "So he's no longer within a category. Paranormals are usually low level, medium or high. He's bouncing around in those classifications. He isn't just one thing any more."

"It's going to be interesting then," Kouga grinned.

"Yes. I've had this theory about paranormals evolving past their set limits for a few years now. Humanity evolved to this point through what science calls mutation. Paranormals aren't any different. They are like the rest of the population on this planet, only that their Sidhe heritage broke through. Why can't this heritage take on new and different forms? Just look at us, Kouga. Look at the youkai. They changed, too. Adapted.”

"It still makes Wilson an empath."

"One defying boundaries," Miroku added. "It might be a glitch in his genes, it might be strong Sidhe influence, it might even be House, but we'll never know. I just find my theories confirmed in a small way that change can happen. Maybe the paranormals are on the verge of an evolutionary leap as well. History had shown us that life finds a way to adapt to new surroundings, new requirements. Maybe we’re witnessing that right now.“

He rubbed his right hand absently where the Kazaana, the ‘old scar’ was itching. His curse that he had believed gone centuries ago. It had come back. The curse was connected to their enemy Naraku, who had placed it there to begin with – actually he had cursed Miroku's grandfather. The kazaana had then been inherited by each son, and it would have cursed each and every generation for all time if Naraku hadn't been killed. At least they all had thought he had been killed five hundred years ago.

It seemed he was back. The reappearance of the kazaana was a strong clue. So far, no one had caught scent or sight of him, but Miroku knew it was only a matter of time.

“And maybe we need to," he now said. "Maybe there’s something on its way that requires those changes.”

Like Naraku.

“Maybe,” Kouga agreed quietly. “And maybe not. Maybe it’s just what it looks like.”

“Maybe.”

"Did you call Inuyasha about your latest project?" the youkai asked, switching topics.

Miroku chuckled. "Yes. He's already in San Francisco, preparing for our arrival. Everything will be ready. He's even curious about meeting her, as am I. She should be able to see his true self immediately, like she saw you."

"You really think you can help?" Kouga wanted to know.

"I don't know, Kouga. I really don't know. I've spent close to five hundred years studying the spirit plane, moving through this realm, and I can't fathom what a child perceives when trapped there. She isn't frightened. She is actually quite comfortable, but she won't leave and the real world is as strange to her as the spirit plane would be to you."

"So it's a fifty-fifty bet whether or not she will ever be able to interact normally?"

"Yes. Or if she wants to."

Kouga mulled that over. "Well," he said after a while, "it's better odds than we had against Naraku back then." He flashed Miroku a little smile.

The other man nodded. "Yes."

And infinitely more dangerous, he knew.

* * *

A week after Miroku's arrival, life returned to normal.

At least House called it normal. There was still the hospital, still sick people, still the hypochondriacs and overreacting moms at the clinic. There was still Cuddy, who nagged him enough to create several headaches and blood clots on a good day. There was still Kagome Higurashi, Chase's temporary replacement. She had a few more months to go.

There was still Wilson.

House smiled softly to himself as he thought about this particular part of his life. His lover and best friend had worked closely with Miroku and Kouga, arranging the transfer of Zoe Chester even if she wasn't his patient. House had seen little of him at the hospital outside a quick shared coffee or a nod across the hallway, and Wilson had come home late for three nights in a row.

"You're not an ally any more," House had remarked gruffly as a tired James Wilson had walked into the living room.

"No."

It was all he had said, stripping off his tie, shoes and jacket. He had undone the top buttons on his shirt and House had been secretly tickled when Wilson had slumped down beside him, using his shoulder as a pillow.

"Get a bed," he had muttered.

"Might be a good idea."

"So why are you still using me as a pillow then?"

"You got bony shoulders."

House had glanced at him, smirking. "You like bony."

"I like comfortable."

"Then why cuddle up to Bony Shoulders?"

The banter had tapered off into kisses. House had enjoyed that part even more, letting his hands explore and map his lover's body.

 

Now, with the need and lust out of their system, House gazed at his relaxed lover. Wilson looked downright edible, tousled hair and all, skin still faintly flushed, naked and looking rather ravaged.

"You still want this," he said.

Wilson turned dark eyes on him, the chocolate color deep and inviting. "I still want what?"

"Sex without boundaries and every toy in the store," House shot back, then shook his head. "Ally work, of course."

Wilson shrugged lazily. "It's hard not to act when there is need. I know I don't qualify as an ally any more since I need them now, too. I'm a paranormal. But I still know what to do, still have people I can contact, and this was a difficult case to work even to a seasoned ally."

House let his fingers trail over the firm chest, circling a semi-interested nipple. "You enjoy it," he murmured.

Wilson caught the teasing fingers. "I do."

"Helping people. Your pathology. You're incurable."

"Maybe." He kissed the fingers.

House pulled his hand out of the light grasp and leaned over, kissing his lover's lips. Neither of them was able to go another round, but kissing was always nice, always an option, and he loved the sounds coming from James when they really got down to the heavy kissing.

"Glad they're gone," House muttered as he trailed a wet path down one side of Wilson's neck and lightly worried a patch of skin with his teeth.

"You didn't like them," Wilson stated.

"And I'm possessive. Want you for myself."

That had the younger man chuckle and House bit harder, hearing the yelp with satisfaction. He gave the reddening area a soft kiss and looked up into the dilating brown eyes.

"Not sharing," Wilson told him calmly.

"You better not."

"Who'd want you anyway?"

House mock-frowned. "I'll have you know I'm a very interesting person, Dr. Wilson."

"As long as nobody gets to know you better."

"Stacy survived."

"She ran."

"You survived."

Wilson cupped his head and drew him into a slow, languid kiss. "And I'm not running," he said softly but firmly. "I'm here to stay."

"You better. I'm not in the mood to house-train another puppy."

It got him a mischievous smile. "House-train?"

House grinned, blanketing the other man's body. "You're an empath, right? You know what I need." He leered.

Wilson chuckled, his hands doing wonderful things to House's body. "Yes, I do."

Maybe he had been a bit quick in his assessment of what they might be up to and when because House felt a light stirring down south.

"And you know what I like," he purred.

Blue eyes darkened, meeting brown ones, and Wilson licked his lips. House liked that mouth, liked it on his body, liked it sucking him off, and right now the very thought of Wilson giving him a blow-job had the stirring double.

His lover's expression grew more intense, like he was receiving those thoughts, and a tremor raced through him.

"We really need to do something about that," Wilson remarked and rolled them around.

House grinned. "Oh yeah, lets."

 

He was glad things were back to normal, yes. He didn't want to think about wolf demons and spirit animals. He didn't want to know about what happened to Zoe Chester. At least not right now. Wilson would do the keeping track of things.

For House, life was good as it was, without the added complications of paranormal involvement.

 

In a corner of the bedroom, the mink had curled up between the front paws of the serval, looking relaxed and a lot healthier and stronger than months before. The serval licked lovingly over the white, fluffy fur and the mink purred.


End file.
